Of Magic and Mayhem, Of Souls and Spells
by Winchester-StilinskiKitsune
Summary: After the winter war, Ichigo is left lonely and powerless, separated from two thirds of his soul. So when Urahara Kisuke hears from a certain wizarding school headmaster, the former substitute Shinigami jumps at the chance add meaning to his life once again, and maybe, just maybe, get his powers back. But, who said it was a good idea to let Kurosaki Ichigo on Hogwarts?
1. Chapter 1

Ichigo looked up at the ceiling as light flooded through his window, numb. It had been a long year and barely anything had improved.

Shiro? Are you there?

He sighed when he didn't get a response. He hadn't been expecting one of course, but hope hadn't left yet. Get up you idiot, He told himself, his voice mentally sounding like the hollow. The saffron-haired teen chuckled, forcing himself up and out of bed.

"Ichi-Nii! Good morning!"

"Ah, good morning Yuzu." he planted a kiss on his sister's head as he grabbed a piece of toast. "Is Karin at practice?"

"Mmhm!" she smiled sweetly, "you know Ichi-Nii, you should really visit Getaboushi-san! He misses you and so does Yoruichi-san!"

"So ka…" I miss them too.. It had been a long time since the teen visited the shop. He was too hurt, and exposure to anything that had to do with the soul society was too painful. Truthfully, he missed his mentors far more than he was willing to admit. Kisuke and Yoruichi had quickly become not just his sensei, but parental figures as well. The goddess of flash's teasing, the mad scientist's risky but dependable methods. The way they both always knew how to say the right thing. He even missed Benihime. Once he had realized how to recognize her reishi, he could always feel the red lady's presence.

"Oh...gomene. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No! Its okay Yuzu! Is Goat face working?"

"Hai. if you want to help out, you know he'll always appreciate your presence."

"I know. I'm heading out okay? Make sure to stay safe, and tell Kisuke I say hi."

"Okay! Have fun Ichi-Nii!"

Ichigo sighed. Again. He'd been doing that a lot, but then again, being powerless for over a year tended to do that to a person.

The teen ran down the streets of Karakura, eventually climbing up the side of an old building and sitting atop it in Jinzen. He rested his hands together, relaxing as the wind ruffled through his long hair. He liked it long, a reminder of the parts of his soul which he couldn't feel.

Hands clutching at his hair, tearing, tears down his face, frantic screaming, clawing at his face in hope that a mask would appear, grabbing above his shoulder, jumping through windows just to feel something . But nobody had noticed. And why would they? Chad, Uryu, Orihime, everyone! They stopped talking the second he would step into the room, determining that it would hurt him less if he wasn't involved at all. But it hurt more. So much more.

Heights helped. Heights and fights and bruises and that satisfaction when he won. He knew part of it was Shiro, Zangetsu, him. Because he was still Ichigo. Still himself. Even if he'd been stripped of everything that made him him. It hurt, it always hurt, to search and search and search and not be able to feel his zanpakuto. He missed the old man more than he thought he would; he and Shiro knew him better than anyone else and he could confide in them. Even when the snarky bastard was trying to take control, he still understood. The wind fluttered around him, caressing the aching former substitute Shinigami.

Why am I like this…

Warm arms pulled him into a hug. "Oh Ichigo.."

A dark green Haori was settled upon his shoulders as it's owner picked the teen up, cradling him in his arms.

"Geta-Boushi..?" he mumbled, clutching at the fabric desperately.

"Hai." The scientist regarded him with unusually serious eyes. He had seen the toll the last year had put on the teen. The loss of his powers, while unintentional on the part of his friends, had alienated him and left him alone. Walking by the river, he'd spotted the teen and knew he had to intervene. There had been far too many instances of the behavior. "I'm bringing you to the shouten, Kurosaki-san. Is that alright?"

"Even if it wasn't, you'd still take me, ya crafty bastard." He muttered.

Benihime.. Kisuke reached out to his zanpakuto, what do we do?

Kisuke, lust for fighting, the need for adventure, it's as prominent in him as it is in us. You just got that notification, did you not? Knock him back on his feet. Give him a job, a reason to live again. Perhaps you'll finish your project in the meantime. You must take advantage of it. opportunities are like sakura blossoms, they only last so long before they fall to the ground.

Kisuke nodded, understanding completely. He blew a mental kiss to his red lady before flash stepping to the Shouten.

"We're here, Kurosaki-san."

Ichigo nodded, feeling discombobulated. He always did, entering the shop without being able to feel the energy pulsing through it. He had been terrible at sensing reiatsu, but it had always been there. Now, he felt nothing.

Ururu went up to him and gave him a hug. "Kurosaki-San? Tessai-San and I brought you some tea. Sumimasen."

"Hey, what're you apologizing for?" He ruffled the young girl's hair, "thank you Ururu."

She smiled a little before bowing and going to the other room.

"Now," Urahara sat down across from Ichigo, "I had been hoping to talk to you, but these don't happen to be the most opportune circumstances." Yoruichi - in cat form- leapt onto the boy's lap, hoping to comfort him. The odd gigai Kisuke had made ensured that Ichigo would be able to see her. He pet her absentmindedly, holding her close as she purred. "Breathe, Ichigo."

He nodded, "I'm working on it." He took a deep breath, thoroughly comforted by the familiarity of the Shouten. In, out. 3 seconds in, 5 seconds out. "So, GetaBoushi, you had something you wanted to tell me about?"

"That I do. You see, there are other powers in the world besides shinigami, kami, hollows, etc. among them are wizards." At ichigo's spluttering he grinned, hiding his face with his fan, "yare yare, don't get your panties in a twist Kurosaki-San, it's not so implausible. This wizards, as they call themselves, are but humans who are more sensitive to reiatsu. Similarly to Shinigami and Quincies, they are able to channel it, though on a much weaker level. They call it magic. Ichigo, you don't need to be more than human to access these, and while you do not have access to your powers, they still exist within you."

Ichigo stared at his mentor in shock, "are you saying..?"

"Yes."

Hope poured through Ichigo. He had been so terrified of his inability to protect others, perhaps this magic would allow him to again.

"I bring this up because I was sent a letter from the headmaster of a rather prestigious magical school. It has an absolutely ridiculous name, and I do hope it'll make you laugh at some point. The headmaster requested me to send someone with 'expertise in defense' to look out for one of his students." Urahara signed, "the boy is credited with defeating a dark wizard as a baby and said wizard is apparently back. I have interest in the matter because I want to know how he's been avoiding death. But back to the matter at hand. I decided you'd be a good choice. Well, Benihime actually decided and she's proven to be very wise over the centuries. Because Kurosaki-San, even without powers you are incredibly strong and… You need a break. You need time to be a teen. Perhaps the exposure to magic will even help bring back your powers. I am working on something, but I'm not sure when it'll be done. Hopefully soon. I've spent some time in the wizarding world over the last century, so the headmaster thinks I'm a wizard. He knows nothing of Shinigami."

Ichigo blinked at him for a little, taking in all the information. "I'll do it."

"That's the spirit Kurosaki-Kun!" Kisuke sung cheerfully.

"Dammit you shady asshole! I'll kick your ass for being so familiar!"

The shopkeeper smiled at the expression on the boy's face. Already, he seemed livelier. "I look forward to it, Kurosaki-san!" he waggled his fingers, "The room downstairs is open any time! I'll set everything up with Headmaster Dumbledore-san. You take care of yourself and I'll let you know when the preparations are complete."

Ichigo seemed to sag in relief. "Thank you, GetaBoushi."

"Hey," the shopkeeper placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'll send Youichi to keep an eye on you."

"As long as she stops stripping in front of me!" Ichigo sighed gratefully. He knew that it was Kisuke's own way of saying he cared. "Thank you."

"Ma, ma! I haven't done anything. That's all you, Kurosaki-san."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Ichigo spun his pencil around his fingers as he pondered his sketchbook. He had been drawing a lot recently, an embarrassing amount honestly. His sketchbooks were filling quickly with sketches and full color drawings of his memories. He'd never admit it, but he had a full mini-sketchbook dedicated solely to the cold head of the Kuchiki clan. Urahara had gotten a glimpse of it once and wouldn't stop teasing him for weeks with knowing glances, snide remarks, and 'Oh Kurosaki-san! I was right! So you do swing that way!'. It was mortifying.

He sighed, ignoring his teacher as she droned on and on about parametric functions. He was sick of the damn things! They were almost exactly what he was doing in physics, but just exactly the right amount of different to be unable to keep the two straight. Or gay , his brain reminded him, sounding - as usual - heart wrenchingly like Shiro.

"Kurosaki-Kun!" a feminine voice caught his attention and he snapped the sketchbook closed.

"Ne? Inoue!" He blinked rapidly, "Is everything okay?" his heart twinged a little. He missed the girl and his other friends.

"Yeah! Ishida-kun, Chad, and I was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with us! I brought food!"

"Uh.." He pondered it for a second. He wasn't hungry, at all, but he missed them, "Sure."

She smiled brightly, hair clips gleaming against her russet hair. He packed up his bag, slinging it over his shoulders, and joined her on the rooftop as soon as class way over.

"Over here, Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime waved at him. He nodded and sat down.

"It's good to see you, Kurosaki-san." Uryu intoned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "We were wondering how you've been. I do apologize for how busy we've been, I've had many sewing projects going on, and -"

Ichigo cut him off. "Don't give me shit."

The trio looked at him in shock.

"You're worried about me now?" he choked out a laugh, " Sure. I believe that. But don't give me that bull. I know why you're busy. What? Too many hollows to handle now that I'm out of the equation? I'm sure you guys have been so very busy, what with all the bathroom breaks and convenient trips to the nurses office. You can't fool me. Even I had better excuses. Tch." He made to stand up.

"Wait! Kurosaki-kun! It's not like that!" Orihime grabbed his arm, "We didn't want to worry you! We know that the loss of your powers hit you really hard, so we didn't want to remind you!-"

"LET GO OF ME!" He spun around, war reflexes almost kicking in. "You didn't want to remind me? Oh you did such a fantastic job of that! Sorry Inoue, maybe we'll have lunch another time." He stood up, walking away."

"I'm sorry Ichigo." Chad muttered quietly, causing the boy to soften his stance a little.

"It's okay Chad. You guys had good intentions. Our agreement still stands." he lightly punched the teen on the shoulder to show his affection before whispering, "Ask GetaBoushi if you need me."

And with that he jumped off the roof, going into a roll at the last second for a safe landing. The trio's eyes widened in horror.

"Did...did he just.." Uryu turned to the others in shock, "We messed up."

"Big time." Chad agreed. "We need to fix this, but maybe he needs some time away from us first."

"Yeah.." Orihime looked down at the ground, "I hope he'll be okay."

"He's Kurosaki," Uryu reminded her, "He always comes out on top."

…..

Ichigo ran to the Shouten, breathing hard until he ran into someone. "Ah, sumimasen!" His eyes were blown wide, half in a panic attack, half stuck in a bout of PTSD.

"Kurosaki-san?" He was steadied by two pale hands, but he was still shaking, breath uncontrollable. "Kurosaki?" still no response. "Ichigo!"

His name, barked with military precision, seemed to start Ichigo out of the attack. "Bya-byakuya?" He could hardly believe his eyes. What was the noble doing here? In Gigai no less!"

"That's Kuchiki-san or Kuchiki-taichou, kurosaki-san." Byakuya wasn't exactly sure how to react. He was in the world of the living to meet with Urahara and take care of some business, he hadn't expected to run into the savior of the soul society while in gigai.

"Byakuya.." The teen slumped against him, shaking hard.

Grey eyes widened as the captain of the sixth took in what exactly he was seeing. Panic attack... Hisana had had them occasionally, he had had them as himself as well, but he never expected to find Kurosaki in such a state. Idiotic. I should have. He's only 16...kami… and we threw him into this war with him not even of age in this world. "URAHARA!" He yelled, hoping to catch the shopkeeper's attention.

And so he did. Kisuke ran out the shouten, accustomed to that certain tone of voice from the captain as a sign that something was seriously wrong. When he found the noble holding his so-his protégée in his arms, he stilled. "Byakuya-bo...What's going on..?"

"I don't know. He literally ran into me."

Urahara quickly swept the boy up into his arms. "Ichigo, I'm here. You're safe. Byakuya-taichou is here too. Aizen is dead, you're safe, I promise, you're safe right now, you're safe. Breathe with me. 3 in, 5 out. I've got you. "

Slowly, Ichigo's breathing returned to normal. "GetaBoushi?"

"Did you forget my name, Kurosaki-kun? So rude!"

"Getaboushi…"

"Kurosaki-san.. Are you..alright?" the question slipped out unnaturally from the stoic noble's lips.

Ah! Byakuya is seeing me like this? Ichigo almost died of embarrassment. "I'll, I'll be okay. I'm sorry for running into you, taichou."

"It is of no trouble, Kurosaki kun." he looked at him closely. "I know that such ideas are beyond your level of understanding? But what is wrong with your reiatsu? Your soul is.. Not what it was."

Ichigo stiffened. "Well that's just what happens when you've lost two thirds of it."

Silence.

"What. Did. You. Just. Say." Fury began to build within the man's frame. "They made you leave Soul Society with TWO THIRDS OF YOUR SOUL MISSING?"

He flinched. "Well yeah… I mean, without Zangetsu, I'm just a regular human, ya know? Can't even see pluses. Can't even hear shiro."

Byakuya's eyes narrowed as he noticed the boy's eyes glistening. I am going to have some words with people when I go back. "And who knows of this?"

"Yamamoto-soutaichou, my father, the others here in Karakura, the new central 46, Kurotsuchi, the Shiba clan. Rukia, Renji. Nobody else."

"I.. please accept my greatest apologies, Kurosaki-kun."

"Huh?" he asked, completely eloquently.

"I assume nobody has visited afore me?"

Kisuke shook his head. "You're the first."

"Urahara. Give him a way to contact me.

Kisuke regarded them slyly, "So ka~. I'll do so right away, Byakuya-taichou. In the meantime, I do believe you have a mission, and Kurosaki-kun here has some reading to do before he meets a certain acquaintance of mine."

"Oh no." Ichigo blanched. "Please don't say training."

"Not at all! You have to read four years worth of coursework before we even start training you!" And with that, the eccentric scientist dragged him off, ignoring his protests.

"No! I'm almost done with highschool! GetaBoushi!"

Byakuya shook his head, a small, rare smile crossing his face before it fell into a determined scowl. He would fix this.


	3. Chapter 3

The time dragged on slowly. The Hogwarts school year would start in September, while the regular school year had started in April - something which was cause for much whining about not getting any break. Ichigo spent most of his time at the Shouten, pouring over spellbooks and helping out. It had come as quite a shock when an honest to god owl had crashed through the window, gaining groans from the shopkeeper about having to repair the shop _again. _

"Oi! GetaBoushi! Why's there a damn owl in here?" The redhead yelled, causing the owl to hoot indignantly at him. The shopkeeper lazily walked on in, followed by Tessai (who was holding tea and some treats for said bird).

"That would be your school acceptance letter and supply list, if I'm not mistaken." He droned, waving his fan casually, "Why don't you open it up?"

Ichigo sighed and went to finagle the letter out of the carrying holster. It had an intricate crest on it as the wax seal and was addressed to:

Mr Ichigo Kurosaki

Karakura Town Japan

Urahara Shouten

Kitchen

He raised an eyebrow, a bit disturbed at the accuracy of the address, and broke the seal. It read:

_Dear Mr. Kurosaki,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find the enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment. Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross Station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock._

_Third-years and above are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade at certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign._

_We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_[signed]_

_Minerva Mcgonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

_**Fifth Year students will require:**_

_Uniform:_

_The quantity given are the suggested minimum requirements._

_1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_3\. One winter cloak (black with silver fastenings)_

_4\. Three white shirts for boys or blouses for girls_

_5\. Two grey sweaters, vests or cardigans_

_6\. Two charmable ties in house colours_

_7\. One charmable winter scarf in house colours_

_8\. Two pairs of trousers or shorts for boys, or skirts for girls_

_9\. Three pairs of white knee socks or black wool stockings for girls, or grey knee socks or black ankle socks for boys._

_10\. One set of dress robes (any colour, conservative style)_

_Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags._

_**Required Textbooks**_

_Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles by Wilhelm Wigworthy_

_The Monster Book of Monsters _

_Fantastic beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_Creature Comforts: A Guide to Magical Creature Environments by Winnie Rider_

_The Standard Book of Spells Grade 5 by Miranda Goshawk_

_The Complete Constellation Dictionary 3rd Edition_

_Futhark Magic: A Study of Ancient Runes_

_Spellman's Syllabary_

_Curses and Counter-Curses by Vindictus Viridian _

_Modern Magical History_

_The Dream Oracle _

_Achievements in Charming _

_Poisonous Plants and the art of Medicine by O. Ollesteria_

_Numbers and the Meaning of Life: Advanced Arithmancy by Perseus Pythagoras_

_Nancy Nova Brings you the Planets _

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_**Other Equipment:**_

_1 wand_

_2 cauldrons (pewter, standard size 2, copper standard size 4)_

_1 set crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set brass or silver scales _

_1 advanced potions ingredients kit_

_1 set of protective gloves (Dragonhide is preferred)_

_Quills _

_Inks_

_Parchment_

_Blank Journal _

_Muggle Pencil or Pen if taking Muggle Studies_

_1 abacus _

_Lunarscope_

_Crystal Ball_

_Rune Set_

_Wand Holster_

_Non-wand magical focus (if so desired)_

_Students may also bring familiars or pets. Approved familiars are: _

_Toad_

_Cat_

_Rat_

_Owl_

Ichigo read through it carefully, thanking his eleven years of english classes. "So, GetaBoushi, where am I supposed to get these? I don't have wizarding currency and I sure as hell don't have a wand." he snorted, "A wand and a pointed hat? Can they be any more cliche?"

"Ma, ma Ichigo. Don't discount them now. While their magic is not truly on par with kido, it is quite powerful. I'm sure you'll take to it like a moth to fire!"

"I'm uh pretty sure the saying is a fish to water…"

Kisuke suddenly appeared in his face, "Did I hear you say something, eh Kurosaki-san?"

"Nope. Not at all." he trailed off, not wanting to set the eccentric shopkeeper off on a tangent.

White fan flapping, Kisuke tapped his lips. "I'll send an owl back right away, and a the headmaster will have someone come and get you to go buy supplies. Yoruichi-san and I will come with."

"Quite Right!" said woman (in cat form), walked over to Ichigo. "I will be your pet while at hogwarts." she sniffed. "But in no way am I a pet, and you are not to treat me as such. Understood?" Her golden eyes glared at him, drilling in her point.

"Oi, woman, I know you're not my pet." He grinned, "But maybe if you're good I'll buy you Fancy Feasts!" She leapt at his face, digging her claws in. "Okay, Okay! Gak!"

Urahara laughed quietly.

Ichigo managed to extract Yoruichi from off his face. "Don't worry, I understand."

"Good. I'll come and go as I please." _And make sure you're okay. I've got to make sure my kit is in good health_

He nodded. "How will I get information to you guys? I don't have, well, I don't have an owl."

"We'll rectify that, don't worry. Now head on home Kurosaki-Kun. Unless you'd like to stay for tea and sake."

Ichigo shook his head. "Maybe another time. Thank you, Yoruichi-San, GetaBoushi." _For caring...I don't know why you care so much but I'm glad. Aren't you two supposed to be the shady ones nobody can trust? For a pair of spies you really are the ones with the most sincere hearts…_

Kisuke tilted his hat and ruffled the boy's hair. The small touches were something he had found the teen was deprived of. He'd spent so much time fighting, with the only physical affection being crushing hugs. The result of the ingrained need to avoid blows had caused Ichigo to instinctively shy away from and crave touch. Ichigo sighed, for once feeling safe as he was surrounded by his mentors. "Go get some sleep Ichigo. You need it." The ex-captain of the twelfth muttered quietly. "You have school in the morning and I know you've been having trouble sleeping."

Ichigo hung his head. Memories and nightmares had haunted his dreams, making him wake up screaming. He'd stopped sleeping so that he wouldn't worry Yuzu, Karin, or Goat-face. "I'm sorry.."

A sudden whack with a cane startled him. "No apologizing. Benihime says to get a grip. You've been through a war Kurosaki-San. It's not shameful to have nightmares."

"I know...but that's not it. I wake up screaming and that hurts my sisters. They can't wake me, I'll lash out at them." he sighed, and with a rare expression, peered up at Kisuke. "Can I, can I stay here tonight?" He looked painfully young, his 16 years expressed plainly how his childhood had been taken away the second his mom died.

"Of course, Ichigo. I'll have Ururu and and Jinta prep a room for you."

"Thank you.."

Urahara sent him off to Tessai, eyes uncharacteristically soft. "Yoruichi? When did I become a father?"

"About the time you decided to take in Ururu and Jinta I think, although it could've been earlier." She transformed into her human shape, curling naked against him. "I'll keep a close eye on him at Hogwarts. If you're correct,"

"Well I do tend to be."

She sighed in fond exasperation,"_if_ you're correct, the ambient magic will help him recover his powers. I'll let you know his progress."

"Aw, I can always count on you Yoruichi."

"well I'm glad you can! We've been taking care of each other for centuries now!"


	4. Chapter 4

The day came in early August, when the leaves were brilliant green and the time filled with chilled soba and reading on rooftops, that Ichigo was summoned to the Shouten to meet with one Professor Dumbledore. The name had inspired much mirth in the young man, having made him fall over laughing due to the fact that a professor's name had the word dumb in it.

When the message came, Ichigo was sprawled out on the grass, watching Karin at her soccer practice. He was proud of his sister and had resigned himself to the fact that she was training to be a shinigami. He couldn't stop her, and apparently, neither could GetaBoushi. The teen smiled softly as he sketched said sister at the ball on one side of the page and Yuzu dancing on the other. He was startled out of the peaceful tranquility when he got thwacked on the head by a crumpled up piece of paper.

_Oi!_

Ichigo glared at the offending item as he picked it up and unfolded it. It read:

Please come to Urahara shop at 16:00.

He sighed and nodded, thoroughly thankful the scientist hadn't decided on the portable murder scene message this time.

"Yo! Karin!"

"Ne? What's up Ichi-nii?"

"I gotta head over to GetaBoushi! Tell Yuzu and Goatface not to wait up for me for dinner!"

"Hai!" She waved goodbye to him, exuding him in that twelve year old way of hers. Ichigo shook his head fondly, thoroughly reminded of himself. _Although with less getting into actual fights, thank kami. Beating up yakuza members can be fun, but I don't want my little sister doing that ever! _He nodded to himself, stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and started the trek to Urahara's.

He arrived at the shouten and let himself in, not bothering to knock. Out in the courtyard Jinta and Ururu were sweeping. Well, Ururu was and the boy was slacking off. Ichigo chuckled, sliding open the shoji door.

"Konnichiwa, Tessai-San." He greeted.

"Boss is in the back."

"Ah." The boy nodded in affirmation and made his way towards GetaBoushi.

He walked in to a quite odd sight. Blinking rapidly, he took in what he was seeing. An old man was sitting in his favorite chair; one with a beard longer than Yama-Jii's and half moon glasses. But what was even odder was his fashion sense! He was wearing what looked like an unflattering purple dress, embellished with stars and silver designs all over it. Ichigo shivered. He could just imagine Rangiku's response to such an outfit. He raised an eyebrow. "This Dumbdoor dude?"

Kisuke laughed, fanning his face. "Yep! This is Dumbledore-sensei."

Dumbledore nodded, seemingly unfazed by Ichigo's botching of his name. "It's nice to meet you, Ichigo my boy."

The teen stiffened, reminded far too much of Aizen to be comfortable. "Ah, yes. Hajimemashite, dozo yoroshiku."

"No need to be so formal my boy. So, Kisuke tells me you'd like to transfer to Hogwarts this year?" Ichigo made a noise to the affirmative. "I'm assuming you will need a wand. I remember when Kisuke went to Hogwarts! He had used a completely different form of magic beforehand and didn't even have a wand!"

"Yes, yes, Kurosaki-San uses the same type of magic I do, so he'll be needing a wand and all the necessary school supplies. As his teacher, I've decided to go to Diagon Alley with him. It'll be a nice bonding experience!"

The orange haired boy sweatdropped, sighing internally and frowning when he didn't hear a snarky comment from his hollow.

"Oh certainly! I'm sure you'd like to visit magical London again. I have a portkey here," and with this he gestured to an old and slimy boot on the ground, "to take you there. An acquaintance of mine will be waiting for you. Her name is Nymphadora Tonks, but mind you not call her that; she quite dislikes her name."

"Got it Jii-san."

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Then I'll be on my way! I'm excited to see you on your first day of term."

And with that he disappeared in a loud _**CRACK**__!_

Ichigo jumped, hand flying to his racing heart. He flinched, images of explosions flashing through his mind.

"Ichigo, Hey." He flushed as his head was slammed into what felt like two large, soft, cushions.

"Yo-Yoruichi-San!" He scrambled backwards, bright red.

"Ma, you're so fun to tease!" She laughed before growing serious. "Kit, we're here for you. It'll be okay, but we've got to use the portkey before it takes off without us."

Ichigo nodded. "Okay, so how do I use it?"

"Just touch it with your finger!"

Ichigo stared at his mentors. "Are you shitting me?"

"Maybeee~" Kisuke drawled. "No that's actually how you use it." The boy sighed, resigned to the shopkeeper's behavior.

"Okay, I'll assume it's highly painful if it's that simple." He touched his finger to it and Yoruichi and Urahara joined him.

Kisuke secured both Benihime and his fan. "And we're off in, San, ni, Ichi!"

All of a sudden, ichigo felt a highly uncomfortable pulling sensation in his gut as the world spun around him. When the universe _finally _came back into focus, the teen collapsed into a pile of long limbs. It took a while for him to gather himself together and stop feeling insanely nauseous. "Ughhhh I am _never_ doing that again! That was more uncomfortable than being stabbed!"

Urahara chuckled, letting the goddess of flash lean on him before she turned into a cat. Once transformed, she crawled onto his shoulders, purring. "So! What do you think, Kurosaki-San?"

"Huh?" He said eloquently before looking around. Bustling buildings filled with magical items surrounded him, people clamoring around in wizarding robes, charmed items flying and flirting around. His breath caught. "Kisuke...I can _feel _it." And he could. The ambient magic was everywhere, in every brick around him, in the giant white fortress at the end of the alley, in every shop, nook, and cranny. "I can feel it!" He grinned insanely, reminding the two shinigami of Shiro. "I can't believe it! And it's, it's so magical! Like I know kido is magic, but this, this is storybook magic!" Eyes gleaming for the first time in a year, he took a deep breath. "Wow."

"It is wow, isn't it." Urahara ruffled his hair. "I remember when I first stepped into Diagon Alley. We'll have to get you some hot butterbeer, or, if you want something stronger, firewhiskey."

"I'm a minor!"

"So?" Yoruichi crossed her arms in amusement. "Didn't stop you from getting into a drinking contest with Shunsui, Rangiku, and Grimmjow."

"That, that was different!"

She laughed at his protests. "Come on kit, let's meet up with our guide."

"Wait!" Kisuke held up a hand, fishing in his haori sleeve. "Here." He pulled out a bracelet with a charm that looked like his mask. "For you. Translation. I know you're proficient in English, but this will let you be fluent."

Ichigo's heart warmed. Kisuke made it, for him? "Thank you...you didn't need to."

"I know. But I wanted to." _And I care about you, _came the unspoken message.

Ichigo slipped it onto his wrist, bowing slightly.

"Wotcher! You must be Ichigo, right?" A young woman with shockingly pink hair waved at them. "Hi, I'm Tonks. Dumbledore should've mentioned me. Oh wow! Your hair is even more orange than the weasleys! Are you related to them? Or a metamorphmagus like me?"

Ichigo blinked. Once. Twice. "You gotta problem with my hair?" He almost growled.

"Huh? Not at all! You see mine?"

He nodded. "I know another girl with pink hair. Pardon my question, but were you born like that?"

She laughed and responded, as if it was the most obvious question in the world, "oh no! I'm a metamorphmagus. I can change my features at will." She changed her hair to bright purple to demonstrate.

"Ookay then." Ichigo nodded to himself. "Not the oddest thing I've seen."

Tonks clapped her hands. "And Who May you be?" She asked Kisuke.

He took off his hat and bowed to her. "Kisuke Urahara, at your service."

_Oh how delightful!_ Tonks thought. "And you're accompanying Mr. Kurosaki?"

"That's me alright."

"Well then! We should be on our way! I hear this young man will be needing a wand?"

"I'm right here…" ichigo raised a hand sassily, "and yes."

"Then let's get you one. C'mon!" And she set off, Ichigo, Kisuke, and one not actually feline cat trailing behind her.

They arrived at a dusky old shop, perfumed with the smell of dust, books, and fragrant woods. The sign read _Ollivanders: Makers Of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._

"Woo" ichigo whistled and stepped inside. The walls were lined with boxes in all different colors, haphazardly stuffed and stacked into shelves. The scent of the magic in the shop was warm, warm and woody like a comforting fireplace. He had quickly realized that magic had its own unique scents. For a year he'd been unable to sense any reiatsu and as such, the ability to feel the magic was exhilarating.

They'd hardly stepped through the door when a ladder slid towards them, an old man whom Ichigo supposed to be Ollivander atop it.

"How curious! A Japanese wizard. Ah, Mr Urahara, I remember the day I sold you your wand. 12 and a half inches, bloodworn horned serpent core, PurpleHeart, unyielding."

Kisuke bowed his head. "Indeed, I have it with me right now."

"And you've been taking care of it?"

"Of course."

"That one is an interesting wand, with a list for knowledge and competition."

_Huh_ Ichigo thought, _that does sound like GetaBoushi._

"Now, time for your wand young sir." Ollivander snapped his fingers and a measuring tape started taking Ichigo's measurements. Everything from the length of his hair and nose, his height, waist, shoulders, arms, legs, and even unmentionables, Nothing was spared from the measurements. "Which is your wand arm, Mr Kurosaki?"

_Wand arm? He must mean dominant hand. _"Well, I'm ambidextrous but I tend to favor my right."

Ollivander nodded and examined said arm, tsking as he went. "The wand chooses the wizard, Mr Kurosaki. They have personalities of their own you see, and they demand great respect."

"So almost like a Zanpakuto…" The boy muttered in Japanese, earning a nod from his mentor.

The wand maker pulled out a wand from a shelf. "Rowan, dragon heartstring, 11 inches, swishy. Go on, give it a wave!"

"Uh," ichigo held the wand a bit skeptically, "okay." He waved the wand and the lamp on the other side of the room exploded. He startled, amazed that he'd actually done magic.

"No no no, that's not right for you, how silly of me." He quickly plucked the wand out of the boy's hand and replaced it with another. "Phoenix feather, silver ash, 13 inches, inflexible."

Ichigo nodded and gave it a wave. Power coursed through it and the wand shattered in his hand. "Ah! I'm so sorry! I broke one of your wands! Please forgive me!"

"Oh don't worry Mr Kurosaki, it happens all the time."

He wasn't really reassured, still feeling terrible that he broke one of the wands.

"We'll find you your wand yet, Young mr Kurosaki, not to worry."

The time flew by, piles and piles of discarded wands growing on chairs tables.

"Hmm I wonder…" the wandmaker paused for a moment, regarding the young man. "I'll be right back." He made his way to the back of the shop, selecting a shimmery wand box from the shelf. _This may do..this may do. Especially since he's seemed receptive to cherry wood._

Ollivander went out to them. "This wand is quite unique. Upon attending a conference of wandmakers, I was gifted this core. It is the tail of a thunderbird, blessed and infused with moonwater from a Shinto shrine. The wood is cherry, or Sakura in Japanese I suppose. It's 13 inches, and very feisty." He placed the wand in Ichigo's hands. The wood was polished so that it was almost glowing a dark red. The detailing was gorgeous and complex with kanji carved into the sides. It read 'blossom of the moon' and 'protector.' Even the shape of the wand was beautiful, smooth curves and carved circles. The wrap carved around the handle looked almost like the bandages on Zangetsu, except more delicate. The base of the handle was carved like a Sakura blossom, and the whole wand was so beautiful it made ichigo catch his breath. He waved it and what looked like a small Getsuga Tenshou came out. But, instead of destroying, it filled the air with the scent of honeyed sake.

Ichigo stared in wonder, beaming.

"Yes! That's the one!" Ollivander looked delighted. "That wand hasn't found a master in so very long! Do treat it well. Also, a word to the wise. Thunderbird wands can sense danger. They'll thrum when danger is close and they have the ability to cast curses on their own. Treat your wand well and it will be extremely loyal."

"Thank you. Thank you so much, Mr Ollivander."

"It is of no trouble. It is the joy of my life to pair young witches and wizards to their wands."

Tonks handed over some money to the wizard, and they were on their way. "We'll head to the leaky cauldron for now. It's an inn and a tavern. Tomorrow we'll buy the rest of your supplies and stop at Gringotts."

"Thank you so much for your assistance, Ms Tonks." Kisuke said politely (for once), "We'll see you tomorrow."


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a couple of weeks since they had bought the supplies, and Ichigo had spent the time being heavily trained by two relentless taskmasters, aka Shihouin Yoruichi and Urahara Kisuke. Tonks stopped by the Leaky Cauldron every now and again to 'check up on them'.

"It's because she's the one the headmaster has assigned to watch over you." Urahara had explained, "that, or she has a crush." This had earned a chuckle from Yoruichi and a growl from the teenager.

Ichigo had refused the dress robes at the store, blatantly insulting the fashion sense and calling the garments crimes of existence. Of course, according to the supply list, he needed said robes, which led to him being kidnapped by Yoruichi in order to get his measurements.

"I'll send them to the Shihouin robe makers! They'll make you an outfit befitting a prince." She told him with a dangerous twinkle in his eye. He hope she wasn't messing with him, because if she was, he might just cry. He really didn't want to show up dressed in something skimpy.

Of course, she didn't mention how said outfits were as heavy as they were beautiful. He only found out when he'd heard a certain shopkeeper commenting, "aren't those the ones who made your furisode?"

"Yes."

"The one for your induction ceremony?"

"Yes Kisuke."

"The ones that weigh five billion tons?"

"Yes."

"The ones that took forever to get off you?"

"Yes!"

That conversation (while a big more than he'd wanted to hear) had apparently sealed his fate of wearing Shihouin formal clothing. A fate which, While he would've avoided If possible, truly wasn't that bad. And so he stood tall and helped pick out the fabrics.

Once that had been done, all other school supplies had been bought. They set up a vault in Gringotts (the wizarding bank) for his money, and spent most of the time at the leaky caldron.

And so, several weeks after Ichigo's induction to wizarding London, his new routine was disturbed by the rapping at the door of the trio's room.

"Hello?"

"'Ello! Tonks here. Is that Ichigo?"

"Hai, that's me." He opened the door. The witch was sporting turquoise hair today and a cheery smile upon her face. "Oi! GetaBoushi!"

Kisuke strode on over, ever present hat balanced on his head as always. "Ah, hello Ms. Tonks! What can my humble self do for you today?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. Definitely humble.

"Professor Dumbledore sent me to bring you to where you'll be staying for the rest of the school year.

_Oh no._ "Please don't say by portkey." The boy shuddered, remembering how they had gotten to London in the first place.

Tonks gave him a sympathetic look. "Those really aren't much fun are they. No, we'll be going by floo."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me? Flu?"

"The floo system. Fireplaces."

_Um okay then._

"Well Kurosaki-Min! I guess that means we've got to pack!" Urahara grinned behind his fan and let Yoruichi climb into his shoulders. He gave his wand a wave and the miscellaneous clutter around the room flew into the suitcases. "There."

Ichigo breathed in the magic, still feeling uncharacteristically giddy from the surges of power. "Hey Geta-Boushi...is it possible to get high off of magic?"

Kisuke laughed. "You might!"

Tonks gave them a questioning look which they completely ignored. "Alright then! We'd better hurry." She led them downstairs to the central fireplace and threw some powder into the fire, turning it a bright emerald green. "Step into the flames and announce, very clearly, Grimmauld Place."

"Ah." Ichigo nodded and did so, telling himself that the fireplace wasn't a threat. "Grimmauld place!"

He felt himself getting sucked through and he stumbled through another fireplace, appearing in a shack at the end of a street. "Huh?"

Kisuke, Yoruichi, and Tonks soon appeared, slightly covered in ash from the fireplace. "Here." She passed around a small piece of parchment. "Read it, memorize it, don't say it out loud." They nodded. _Number 12 Grimmauld place.._

Tonks took it from kisuke and burned it. "There. There's a Fidelius charm on it, so that was necessary. Come with me." She led them out onto the street and to a rather giant house. "Here we are." She opened the door and very promptly tripped, knocking over the coat rack.

"_HYBRIDS, MUDBLOODS, TRAITORS! SCUM ON THE HOUSE OF BLACK! DISGUSTING FILTH IN MY HOUSEHOLD!-"_ a man ran and snatched the curtains on either side of the screaming picture shut. Ichigo had stiffened, fully ready to spring into combat.

"Ah, sorry about that." The man sighed. "I'm Sirius Black. I see you've met my mother."

_**Harry POV **_

The screaming of the portrait started a stampede downstairs to see who the visitors were. At the bottom of the steps were Tonks, a blond man in odd green robes and a striped bucket hat, and a teen about their age with bright orange hair.

"Blimey! Your hair is brighter than mine!" Ron exclaimed.

"Great. Been here one second and there's already shit about my hair." The teen deadpanned.

"Don't be so surly Kurosaki-San, you'll be at school with these boys!" The blond man waved a white paper fan in front of him. "And I'll have to be on my way back to Karakura."

"Yeah, Yeah..take care of Yuzu, Karin, and Goat-face for me, will you?"

_Goat-face?_

"Of course." The teen's eyes looked haunted. "Ichigo…" the man brought him into a hug and the black cat (who had been resting on the blonde's shoulders) climbed onto the orange haired boy. "Breathe. I'll take care of the family." He lowered his voice and Harry strained to hear it. "I won't be available to help you through episodes," _episodes? "_but you have Yoruichi and you can reach me through letters. You have the phone I made that lets you contact Byakuya-bo, right?" The teen, Ichigo, nodded. "You can contact him. Ma, Ma, I know he's Kuchiki-taichou, all high and mighty, but he has a soft spot for you and you know it."

"Shut it."

"Okay, okay! I was teasing. Ichigo. Please take care of yourself."

"I'll do my best. Thank you, GetaBoushi."

"C'mon Kurosaki-kun! Doesn't this merit my real name?"

"Che, Fine. Thank you, kisuke,"

The man ruffled his hair. "Tonks, give my regards to Dumbledore and the others, will you? I'm afraid I have to get back to business."

Ichigo coughed and Harry could've sworn he heard him say, "business? More like manipulating us lovingly." Which was quite odd. This guy looked like the boy's mentor, so why would he manipulate him? Harry shook his head. And what was this about episodes? Was the kid crazy? And why did he just randomly show up?

Hermione startled him out of his thoughts. "Who do you think that is Harry? Did Dumbledore mention him? I think he said something about a transfer student, so that's probably him."

"Yeah...no Dumbledore didn't say anything. I'm not sure what to think yet. I mean, who is this kid and why did he appear now? What are these episodes he has? What kind of business? Is he a death eater?"

Hermione sighed as Ron nodded. "Honestly Harry, you think everyone is a Death Eater."

"Why would anyone eat death?" The boy scrunched up his nose. "Death tastes terrible. _I _definitely would never want to eat it. And talk about a pretentious name!" At the trio's frozen expressions he blinked. "Oh sorry, was I not supposed to hear that? My sincerest apologies, though I really couldn't care less. I'm Ichigo Kurosaki, transfer student for the year, and I have absolutely no clue what you're talking about. Nice to meet you."

The golden trio stared at him. Nobody had noticed their nosiness so quickly before, and he was quite a sight. Tall, orange haired, rather handsome, and with a scar showing over the top of his neckline. No matter who the kid was, one thing was definitely for certain. This year would definitely be interesting.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer. Part of this chapter has work from the original Order of the Phoenix by J.K Rowling. I lay no claim to that, nor do I own the Harry Potter series ( by J.K Rowling) bleach (which is by Tite Kubo)**_

_Meanwhile in soul society _

Kuchiki Byakuya, head of the noble Kuchiki clan and captain of the sixth, strode into the first for the Captains' meeting. He stopped at the end of the rows of captains, addressing them all, haori and scarf billowing menacingly.

"Exactly whose idea was it, to let Kurosaki Ichigo, the _sixteen year old_ who saved us, back into the world of the living, with two thirds of his soul missing?" His voice was harsh as he surveyed his fellow captains. Kurotsuchi had a gleeful look on his face, one associated with wanting to experiment, while, as understanding dawned on the other captains, horror grew in their eyes.

"Byakuya...what do you mean?" Hitsugaya questioned, teal eyes widening.

"I mean, whatever he did to end the war left him with no powers, unable to see even pluses and has completely alienated him from his comrades. It disturbs me greatly that no measures were taken."

The reiatsu in the room rose and the Soutaicho slammed his cane into the ground. "ENOUGH KUCHIKI-TAICHOU! What you are accusing us of is grave. It was not your fellow captains' faults. The central 46 decided that one as dangerous as Kurosaki Ichigo would be safer and better off without his powers, and so, no measures - by ruling of the central 46 - have been taken to restore his powers."

Byakuya bowed his head, not so subtly shaking with fury behind his Kuchiki mask. "I see." _Did it occur to nobody, no one at all, that this boy has just been in a war? _"In that case, let us proceed. I apologize for the interruption, Soutaichou."

_This is not the end of this._

…..

Harry POV

"Oh hello!" Mr. Weasley appeared and hurried forward to greet the teen, and shook his hand vigorously. The poor transfer student seemed a bit dumbfounded, unsure how to react. "'Good to meet you!"

"Uh, it's nice to meet you too, Mr…"

"Weasley. Arthur Weasley."

Kurosaki nodded and bowed slightly, "ichigo Kurosaki."

"Nice to meet you Ichigo! Journey all right, Harry?" Bill called, trying to gather up twelve scrolls at once. "Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, then? Sorry I wasn't here when you got in."  
"He tried," Tonks deadpanned, magenta lips pursed in a frown as she strode over to help Bill, promptly toppling a candle on to the last piece of parchment. "Oh no, I'm sorry, traveling by portkey with Ichigo here made me clumsier than usual I'm afraid, sorry -"

"Here, dear," Mrs Weasley quickly doused the flame with her wand. "This sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings." she shot all the adults in the room judging looks.  
"Sit down, Harry" said Sirius. "You've met Mundungus, haven't you?"

"Unfortunately."

Ginny giggled.  
"The meeting's over, Dung," Sirius told the misshapen pile of rags in humanish form, as they all sat down around him at the table. "We have visitors."

Harry shot the exchange student a look. The boy looked thoroughly out of place as he raised a hand to wave. "Hi."

"If you lot want dinner before midnight I'll need a hand!" Mrs. Weasley scolded those around her and set her hands on her hips, "no, you two boys stay where you are! Ichigo dear, you look like you could just fit right in among my boys! And far too scrawny. You and Harry have had long journeys so I'm not accepting any help from you!"

The transfer student tried to protest, but, as any of her children - plus Harry and Hermione - could attest, Mrs Weasley was quite a force to be reckoned with, and Ichigo had no chance at winning.  
And so people set about cooking, clattering pots and pans filling the air with the music of the kitchen.

"Ah this is so different from home." Ichigo remarked, observing the situation. "Yuzu, my little sister, usually cooks because you can't trust Goat-face or Karin with anything food related. And Yuzu is _highly_ protective when it comes to cooking, so she won't let me help either."

Harry blinked. "Huh. That is different. Nice to meet you, I'm Harry Potter."

"Yeah, I know." Was the awkward response. "Tonks told me."

"Tonks told you?" Ron asked incredulously, "what kinda wizard doesn't know who Harry is without being told?"

"A foreign one." The teen's expression was completely non-impressed.

"Oh I do apologize for Ron," Hermione elbowed him, "Ron say sorry! He has no tact. He's obviously Japanese Ronald, of course he doesn't know who Harry is!"  
_isn't that a bit racist?_ Harry thought to himself, re-adjusting his glasses.

Sirius turned towards the four kids. "Had a good summer so far?"  
'Nope! it's been horrendously lousy," said Harry with a grimace. It had been a horrid summer, what with the Dursleys and Dementors and all.  
"Don't know what you're complaining about, myself." Sirius commented.  
"What?"  
"Personally, I'd have welcomed a dementor attack. A deadly struggle for my soul would have broken the monotony nicely. You think you've had it bad, at least you've been able to get out and about, stretch your legs, get into a few fights... I've been stuck inside for a month."  
"How come?" Harry frowned.  
"Because the Ministry of Magic's still after me, and Voldemort will know all about me being an Animagus by now, Wormtail will have told him, so my big disguise is useless. There's not much I can do for the Order of the Phoenix ... or so Dumbledore feels."  
"well, I've had a pretty uneventful summer, personally." Ichigo commented. "Honestly both of those sound much more interesting than having your teachers make you use them as target practice.  
while goading you and treating life threatening situations as fun. Which I mean, they are." he seemed to glare at the cat on his shoulders, who purred.

Sirius and Harry looked at him like he was crazy. "Oh yeah," said Sirius sarcastically. "My summer has _definitely _been more eventful than that. Listening to Snape's reports, having to take all his snide hints that he's out there risking his life while I'm sat on my backside here having a nice comfortable time ... asking me how the cleaning's going-"

"Uh, Who's Snape? Sorry, I have no idea what you guys are talking about. Maybe explain?"  
"Potions Professor at Hogwarts. Nasty guy, hates me." Ichigo nodded in understanding. Harry looked at him oddly. The boy was going to school with them, right? Why didn't he know who anyone was? That was suspicious. But then again, not knowing Snape made it more likely that he wasn't a death Eater.

The silence was disrupted by an extremely loud shout of, "Fred-George-NO, JUST CARRY THEM!" from the Weasley matriarch.  
A giant cauldron of boiling hot soup zoomed towards the table, heading right at Harry. His eyes widened, prepared to jump out of the way when both he and Sirius were snatched away from the table and safely deposited a distance from the disaster zone. Orange hair swam into his vision.

"Sorry about that," Kurosaki said, "are you guys all okay?"

They nodded, surprised by the teen's strength.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE! 'THERE WAS NO NEED- I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS- JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW, YOU DON'T HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"

Ichigo covered a laugh and Harry, after pausing for a second to think about it, did laughed at the unintentional innuendo.  
The twins only looked a little sheepish. "We were just trying to save time Mum! Uh, sorry Sirius, Harry, kid who looks like he could be our little bro."

"Why is my hair such an issue..you all have red hair...I feel attacked." Ichigo muttered in deadpan.  
"Let's just, lets just eat," said Bill quickly.  
"it looks wonderful." Lupin commented. Harry was impressed by his tact, but then again, the old DADA teacher had always had impeccable manners.  
Ichigo sat down awkwardly next to Tonks. Harry empathized with the kid. The weasleys were quite a handful, and he had quite literally been dropped right amongst them.  
"I've been meaning to tell you, Sirius," Mrs Weasley turned to him, "I think there's a boggart in the drawing room table but I thought we should have Alastair take a look at it."

"Whatever you like," Sirius shrugged indifferently.  
"The curtains in there are full of doxys, too," Mrs. Weasley went on. "I thought we might try and tackle them tomorrow."  
"sounds good." Sirius said, voice full of sarcasm. He had the unique expression of someone being run over by a steamroller and didn't seem quite sure as to what to do about it.  
Three helpings of home made rhubarb crumble and custard later and the boy-who-lived felt himself going into a food coma from the sheer amount which he had eaten. Mr. Weasley was leaning back in his chair, looking replete and relaxed, Tonks was yawning widely, hair a drowsy blue. Ginny, who had lured Crookshanks out from under the dresser, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolling Butterbeer corks for him and Ichigo's black cat to chase, and Ichigo was staring at his plate, having finished the oddly small portion, in Harry's opinion, of the delicious food.

"It seems almost time for bed, don't you think?" Mrs Weasley instructed in a rhetorical question.  
"actually," the orange haired teen (whom Harry has almost forgotten about) spoke up. "I was literally dumped here today by Tonks with no warning, am surrounded by at least a dozen adults who can use possibly lethal magic, the only one I know is Tonks, GetaBoushi ditched me cause he's a shady asshole who cares, and all of a sudden I'm hearing about some 'You-Know-Who' and some idiot named 'Voldemort'. You sound like you're preparing for a war and I just Fucking got out of one so _could someone please explain!"_

Mrs Weasley stiffened. "you kids are too young for this topic. You're not even in the Order" Ichigo scoffed, a sentiment apparently echoed by Sirius.

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions? Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen-"

"Where's Voldemort?" Harry asked, ignoring the renewed shudders and winces at the name. "What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the Muggle news, and there hasn't been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything-"  
"That's because there haven't been any funny deaths yet," said Sirius, "not as far as we know, anyway... And we know quite a lot."  
"How come he's stopped killing people?" Harry asked. He knew Voldemort had murdered more than one person in just the last year alone.  
"well that's so obvious I'm seriously wondering if you're all blind." All the heads in the room swiveled to face Ichigo.  
"it's nice being ignored and all, but did you really forget I was here?" He sighed, rubbing a hand through his tangerine locks. "He wants to put you guys under the illusion that there's no danger."

_Huh? How is this guy so knowledgeable?_

"What? Did you all miss that I said I was just in a war?"

Molly gasped, "dear! Why are you sending you here then? Oh you're much too young to be in a war, I'm so sorry!"

"Don't." His voice was hard, "don't ask about it. It was war. People died. The war's over now and we're rebuilding. It's been a year. And don't make me prove it to you. Please. I have plenty of scars I could show you, but I'd rather not."

Harry looked at him in renewed interest. Since this guy had just been in a war, that meant he knew stuff, right? And experience would be really useful. He hated to admit it but he'd been really lucky so far.

"Well, you're right young man. The main thing the Order is doing is to try and convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard," said Bill. "It's proving tricky, though."  
"Why?"  
"Because of the Ministry's attitude,' said Tonks. He's absolutely refusing to believe it's happened."  
"Well that's idiotic. Government corruption and being under the illusion is highly dangerous, trust me." Kurosaki rested his head on his hand, looking bored. "Also this You-Know-Who guy is Voldemort right?" There was a nod to the affirmative. "Thanks. Don't mind me, I'm pretty used to war councils by know."

_So nonchalant!_

"But why?" Harry wanted to scream. "Why's Fudge being so stupid? If Dumbledore-"  
"Exactly." Mr Weasley's expression was strained. "Dumbledore."  
"Fudge is frightened of him, you see," said Tonks sadly.  
"well that's just great." Harry heard Ichigo mutter under his breath. "That's even worse than having the central 46 get murdered without anyone realizing it. Fear is a powerful motivator."

"Fudge thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister of Magic." Tonks explained, hair turning a sad shade of grey.

"But Dumbledore doesn't want that!" Harry protested. He couldn't even picture the headmaster in the government. The mental picture itself was too hilarious.  
"Of course he doesn't," placated Mr. Weasley. "He's never wanted the Minister's job, even though a lot of people wanted him to take it when Millicent Bagnold retired. Fudge came to power instead, but he's never quite forgotten how much popular support Dumbledore had, even though Dumbledore never applied for the job."  
"Deep down, Fudge knows Dumbledore's much cleverer than he is, a much more powerful wizard, and in the early days of his Ministry he was forever asking Dumbledore for help and advice," said Lupin. "But it seems he's become fond of power, and much more confident. He loves being Minister for Magic and he's managed to convince himself that he's the clever one and Dumbledore's simply stirring up trouble for the sake of it."  
"How can he think that?' Harry said angrily. "How can he think Dumbledore would just make it all up, that I'd make it all up?!"

"Because fear is a better motivator. This idiot in charge is obviously afraid. Afraid of Voldemort, afraid of losing his position, and he sees the cowards way out. Eliminating his competition with scandal while falling under the illusion of the enemy." Ichigo stated, despite him saying he had no idea what was going on, Harry thought he was pretty on the mark.

Lupin sighed. "You see the problem."

Harry did indeed see the problem. It was kind of glaring at him. "But Voldemort is still back! How do you deny that? What happens when people start dying again?"

"Voldemort doesn't waltz up to people's front doors with militia," Sirius reminded him. "He tricks, jinxes and blackmails them. He operates in secret, puts people under the imperious charm. And he has other plans as well that differ from getting people on his side."  
"What's he after apart from followers? Money? Power? He already has that." Harry asked swiftly. He saw his godfather exchange a look with Lupin.

"Something he needs stealth for."  
Sirius sighed, making Harry feel very young indeed. "A weapon. Something new."  
ichigo raised his hand. "I swear, if you say the hogyoku I might actually punch something."

The odd teen and the odd word were very much ignored.

"Like what kind of weapon?' said Harry. "Something worse than the Killing Curse?"

"Did anyone think of dodging it?" The orangehead mused.  
"That's enough!" Mrs. Weasley spoke from the shadows beside the door. Harry hadn't noticed her return from taking Ginny upstairs. Her arms were crossed and she looked furious. " I want you in bed, now. All of you," she added, looking around at Fred, George, Ron and Hermione.  
"ichigo dear, you'll be rooming with Ron and Harry, I hope that's alright."

"Of course!" Ichigo bowed slightly. "Thank you so much."  
"You can't boss us around!" Fred argued.  
"I'm your mother and I can boss my children around if I do please!"' snarled Mrs. Weasley. She was trembling slightly as she looked at Sirius. "You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straightaway."  
"Why not?" said Harry quickly. "I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight."  
"No." It was not Mrs Weasley who spoke this time, but Lupin. "The Order is comprised only of overage wizards," he said. "Wizards who have left school," he added with the sole purpose of shutting Fred and George up. "There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea, any of you... I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough."

Ichigo groaned. "Kami! You are all idiots. You think this is a war? A bunch of middle aged wizards who only know how to fight with wands and cower at a name? Harry Potter. The boy who apparently defeated VoldyMoldy as a baby. He's been involved in this and he still is, whether you like it or not, he'll get involved. Trust me. As someone who got thrown into a war at the age of fifteen, I know what it's like. You guys don't. Our magical wars in japan? They aren't like yours here. It's not one nice killing curse, a death which could be called _merciful_. I've been experimented on. Stood on the front lines fighting and falling, only barely being healed and fighting again. I know what bloodlust is. Because fighting? It's fun. I never learned to hold back because in fights it was always kill or be killed.  
some of my enemies? After nearly killing each other, we became friends. I've decided Grimmjow's obsession with trying to kill Me is simply a way of flirting. So you guys don't understand. Harry? He's faced this guy more than you have. Right?" Harry nodded. "He's more involved than any of you. I rest my case."

The room stared. Who the hell was this kid? Why was he here now?

"That May be true dear, but it doesn't mean he should be. Now, off to bed with you!" Mrs Weasley planted her hands on her hips. "Now."

Sirius half-shrugged but did not argue. Mrs. Weasley beckoned imperiously to her sons and Hermione. One by one they stood up and Harry, recognising defeat, followed suit.


	7. Chapter 7

Ichigo strode up the staircase, trailing behind the other teenagers. He held the quiet opinion that these wizards were severely lacking in intelligence. Uryu would be horrified. So would Kisuke, when he thought about it. He sighed, missing the eccentric shopkeeper. Yoruichi purred in his shoulder, keeping the illusion of being a regular cat. He almost wished she wouldn't. The Shihouin goddess of flash might gain unearthly levels of pleasure from tormenting him but she still cared.

He followed the soldier boy, Harry, the one he was supposed to keep an eye on, to the room. It was nice, if a bit dreary.

"So mate, which year are you going to be in?" The freckled boy, Ron, asked him.

Ichigo sighed, going over to the bed with his suitcases next to it. "Fifth year. I'm 16, but because of everything school wasn't exactly a priority last year." He stripped off his shirt. Modesty really wasn't an issue for him anymore. Far too many battles had been fought in partially shredded shihakusho for him to really care about being shirtless. But he had forgotten. Being surrounded with warriors, he'd been used to everyone having scars. And he _knew _his weren't pretty.

"Blimey…."

"Are those...scars?"

_Well shit._ Ichigo thought, _they've never seen real scars before, have they._

…

**Harry POV **

Harry stared at the transfer student's back. _Oh my god…_ there were two straight, silvery scars on either side of his waist, layer of scars on his shoulders, what looked like a stab wound right through his chest, a giant round scar right where his stomach would be on the other side, and far more scars that he couldn't catalogue.

"What?" Ichigo's voice was flat.

"Did, did you get those in the war?"

The teen raised an eye at him. "Yes. Are you European wizards all this intelligent?"

Ron bristled. "Hey! Hermione is the brightest witch of her age! And Harry's pretty smart too!" _Well compared to some people. But you and I would completely suck without Hermione._ Harry mentally sighed. "But hey mate...how did you get those? I mean those are some pretty kickass scars."

Ichigo pierced him with a biting glare. "Fighting for my life. Now excuse me, I'd like to go to sleep."

Harry turned to look at Ron, who shrugged. The two friends absolved to share the information with Hermione and discuss it later.

"Alright. G'night Ichigo."

"Oyasumi Harry, Ron."

The three boys got ready for bed with Ron claiming the shower first.

"I'll shower in the morning." Ichigo said, shrugging on an interesting robe. It was light green and open in the front on top of tan pair of wide pants. In Harry's opinion, it looked like a skirt, but he decided he couldn't judge. After all, European wizarding clothes were just as weird.

After they were all finished, they settled into their respective beds.

"Night."

"G'night."

"Good night."

…

Harry was woken up from his odd dream involving bludgers, cauldron cakes, and Dumbledore singing about lemon drops by the sound of muffled screaming.

His eyes flew open and he tried to locate the source of the screaming. It didn't take long.

The transfer student was curled up in a tight ball, tears running down his face.

"RUKIA! NO! no...don't hurt her! Please...please….Grimm no… run away...they'll hurt you…. NO!" The teen startled awake with the scream, shaking and hiding his face in his hands. "It's okay...it's okay...she's alive….fuck…"

Harry furrowed his eyes. Who was this Rukia? His girlfriend? What had happened in this war?

"Why did Grimmjow have to do that...he could've gotten away…" he pressed his hands onto his eyes. "Fucking stupid blue haired flirt."

Harry watched through the crack between his covers with interest as Ichigo sat up, fumbling for something. He was rifling through his bags - _muggle suitcases, suspicious - _quite frantically, a hand running through his seemingly always ruffled orange hair.

"Here it is, oh thank Kami." He pulled out something which looked like a flip phone? The boy who lived blinked a few times, perplexed.

Ichigo moved towards the window as he dialed a number, settling on the edge. "Hey…Yeah this is me. I'm sorry to bother you, Kuchiki-taichou."

_Who's that? And why does Kurosaki have a Muggle phone? This doesn't add up._

A faint hint of mirth flew to Ichigo's eyes. "Central 46 being their stubborn-ass selves? Ah yes, I'm sure the elders are oh so daunting to the high and mighty head of the Kuchiki clan, Byakuya~" his voice was both taunting and teasing, one which Harry hadn't heard yet from the apparently jaded teenager.

_Kuchiki clan? Is that like when they say the high and noble house of Black? So ichigo knows nobles. Then why is he here?_

"Fine, Yeah, I'm sorry…" ichigo shook his head. "Ugh you're far too perceptive for me to let anything slide. How does Renji get away with anything under your command? Yeah yeah, I know. He doesn't do anything stupid because he doesn't want you getting up in arms about honor."

_And another name. His friends? But he said command...well I guess they were just in a war? _

The transfer sighed. "Yeah…I didn't just call you to tease...I just, I just.." He let out a shuddered breath and Harry all of a sudden felt ashamed of watching, as if he was intruding on a private moment. "I just really need someone right now…" the phrase passed through his lips as if torn from them, unnatural sounding. "You asked GetaBoushi to make a way to contact me, so I'm really sorry if I'm bothering you I'll just hang up, I'm sure you're really busy taichou…"

He held the phone to his ear, knees drawn in close to his chest. "I...arigatou...I just can't stop thinking...how do you do it? Mask your emotions like that? When I close my eyes I can only see Grimmjow lying paralyzed, Rukia stabbed all the way through, Ulquiorra holding Orihime as if she was his pet, Aizen… Dammit I can't forget anything byakuya...he'd always call me boy...ryoka boy, boy, boy, as if I wasn't a _person_, someone capable of destroying him because to him, to a self-proclaimed god, _I was nothing._ Because he was right. Because I am. No kuchiki-taichou! You don't get to say that people care! Your own sister, _my friend_, hasn't visited me. Nobody even thought about the consequences of sending a 16 year old war veteran back to his regular ole life with no contact now did they." He laughed bitterly, listening to the end of the line. "Thought so. Byakuya…I don't know how to do this. This people here, they're idiots. And my dreams keep getting worse and I can't feel them I can't feel them I can't feel them I Can't Feel Them I CANT FEEL THEM!" The teen shook back and forth, "I can't, I can't _feel them_. They're _gone_ Byakuya. Kami knows Shiro infuriated the _hell _out of me, but he and Ossan were always there for me." His reflection was visible in the window, showing Harry a face with eyes far older than they should be for someone his age. He shuddered to think what a dementor would do to the teen.

"Imagine, imagine if you did something and all of a sudden Senbonzakura was ripped away from you, along with all your power. It's even worse than that." Tears fell down Ichigo's face. "I'm really sorry for bothering you taichou. Give my regards to everyone? I really, _really miss them…"_ and with that, the boy fell asleep, curled up on the window sill.

And for the life of him, Harry could remember no more, except for the shimmering outline of a man with long dark hair, black robes with a white overcoat, and something in his hair, which hovered over Ichigo while shooting Harry a glare and pressing a finger to his lips.

All the young wizard knew was that when he woke up, ichigo was back in his bed and, a cherry blossom rested on the window.


	8. Chapter 8

The days were spent in a bustle, with much cleaning and homework. It had become a common sight to see the young transfer student meditating on tall pieces of furniture (with no one quite sure how he got there). He had so far been compared to a cat, quite hilariously as the teen's pet often occupied his lap, and had nearly leapt at people's faces for said comparison. Ichigo had proved to be an enigma, one that the Weasley twins took to with glee. It turned out that the orange head had a penchant for causing mischief, and they were wondering if he was their long lost Japanese triplet (even though that was impossible). The other occupants were starting to wonder if he was insane. He and Sirius had seemed to develop a friendship, one consisting of sarcasm and dark humor. Hermione has tried to corner the boy to ask questions, but he tended to flee, yelling, 'I'll tell you later! At school!'. When he wasn't meditating, cleaning, or helping the Weasley matriarch cook, he was seen with a sketchbook and writing instrument, drawing something or another. A tall young man with long dark hair, a trio of friends -two boys and a girl -, a man with an odd hat (identified as Ichigo's mentor) with a beautiful (and busty) young woman, and a collection of very odd people (including a man with a skeletal jaw mask) tended to pop up in what little the occupants of Grimmauld place had seen of the drawings. Often there was also a young woman with short dark hair and violet eyes. The golden trio wanted to ask, but he was quite skilled at avoiding their questions.

On the very last day of the holidays Ron walked into their shared room, carrying two envelopes.

"Booklists have arrived," he announced, throwing one of the envelopes up to Harry, who was standing on a chair. Ichigo was perched on the dresser and looked up.

"I think I already got mine."

Harry nodded and went to open his letter. It contained two pieces of parchment: one the usual reminder that term started on the first of September; the other telling him which books he would need for the coming year.  
"Only two new ones," he said, reading the list, "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk, and Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard."  
A loud _**crack!**_ Sounded through the air.  
Fred and George Apparated into the room, only barely evading a flying kick from Ichigo, who had leapt off the dresser and only changed his direction when he realized who it was.  
"We were just wondering who assigned the Slinkhard book." Fred smirked, shaking his head.  
"Because that means Dumbledore's found a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," said George, " we think he was having real trouble finding anyone to do the job this year.  
"Not surprising, is it, when you look at what's happened to the last four?" said George.  
"Huh?" Ichigo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Why would it be so hard to find a teacher? He chuckled, mentally picturing Kisuke as the teacher. _Those kids wouldn't even last a day._ "What happened to them?"

"One was sacked, one dead, one's memory got removed, and one locked the real teacher in a trunk for nine months while pretending to be him." Harry shrugged, "not an enviable position. People think it's cursed."

"Cursed eh? Tch." The teen scratched his neck. _Hmm...I'll get Yoruichi to take a look at it. Maybe she and GetaBoushi will know. Ugh, wasn't this supposed to be a vacation from stuff? _He shook his head, _ugh they know me too well. Thank Kami this won't be too boring then. Hopefully._  
His attention was then drawn to the youngest Weasley. Ron was standing very still with his mouth slightly open, gaping at his letter from Hogwarts.  
"What's the matter?" Fred asked his brother impatiently, moving around Ron to look over his shoulder at the parchment.

His mouth dropped. "Prefect? Oh my god George. Little Ronnikins is a prefect?"  
_The fuck are they talking about? _Ichigo peered at the letter as well. _A school honor? Probably a British thing._

"There's been a mistake," George snatched the letter out of Ron's grasp and held it up to the light as if checking for a watermark. "No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect."

"Hey!" The boy protested.

"Che," ichigo scoffed. "Sure he's not the 'boy who lived' but I'm sure he's done some impressive stuff. Often the most powerful are the most overlooked." He commented, thinking of Orihime. He missed her… he couldn't deny that. Even though her crush on him was embarrassingly large, she was still his friend. And that made it hurt even more. _Why did they distance themselves...they alienated me…_

" well yeah, but we really thought it'd be Harry!" Fred looked at the boy in a betrayed manner. "You're not trying to trick us, are you?"  
"We thought Dumbledore was bound to pick you!" George exclaimed. "Prefect ... ickle Ronnie the prefect…who would've thought?"  
"Oh, Mum's going to be revolting," groaned George, thrusting the prefect badge back at Ron as though it might contaminate him.  
"you guys do realize I have no idea what's going on?"

"Oh, sorry Strawberry!"

Ichigo bristled, glaring at them. "It means one who protects! Not strawberry!"

"Sureeee." Fred drawled. "Prefects like Ronnie here are upstanding students! Those who follow the _rulessss_. Disgusting aren't thy? Giving out detentions and all."

Ichigo chuckled. "Oh they'd hate my friends and I! We skipped class so often Sensei just gave up trying to stop us."

They blinked at him. "You, sir, are our new hero."

Ron, who still had not said a word, took the badge, stared at it for a moment, then held it out to Harry as though asking mutely for confirmation that it was genuine. Harry took it. A large 'P' was superimposed on the Gryffindor lion.

"Hey." Ichigo appeared by the boy's shoulder. "Don't get your briefs in a twist just cause you aren't a prefect. Think of it this way. You can get away with more things and have more freedom. If you were one of these, you'd have to follow the rules to the letter." He sighed, scratching his neck in a posture of nonchalance. "And sometimes the rules are wrong. In those cases, you get to break them and fix them." He chuckled bitterly. "And hopefully you won't reveal corruption. Or actually, hopefully you do. Just try not to die! It'll be fun!"

Harry looked at him as if he was insane, which honestly, he probably was. "But why didn't? I mean I'm happy for Ron, I really am, but…"

"You feel like it should be you." Ichigo shook his head. "Take it as it is."

The boy who lived nodded, trying to take in the information and handing Ron back the badge. It was in that moment that Hermione burst in.

"Ron! Harry! I'm a prefect! Oh!" She spotted the badge. "Ronald! You're a prefect? Wow! I never thought - I mean, I'm so happy for you! We'll be prefects together!"

The former Substitute Shinigami saw Harry's face drop and sighed. _He'll get over it. He's what these people are relying on, idiotically. He can't get consumed in jealousy. _He got it. It would be hard for the boy to be the only one in the trio who wasn't a prefect, but he'd manage.

"Yo." He tried to get their attention. "Isn't it about time for dinner? I'm sure Mrs Weasley will be delighted to hear the news."

The twins looked at him incredulously, Hermione's face lit up, and Ron looked torn between happiness and shock.

"Oh no. She'll throw a real fuss."

Fred smirked, realizing what Ichigo was up to. "Oh yes she will!"


	9. Chapter 9

It is later that day when Ichigo encountered a boggart for the first time. He had read about the of course, they started in two of his textbooks, but he hadn't dwelt on them anymore than realizing their potential for danger. It hadn't even crossed his mind that one might be in the house.

So when he entered the drawing room, faced with a sobbing Mrs Weasley, he didn't know what to thin. On the floor in front of her was a mangled body. Ron's body.

What? That can't be! I just saw him! Well…at least it's not as bad as it could've been…

He walked forward, meaning to comfort the woman when she pointed her want at the body.

"Ri-riddikulus.." the body changed into that of her husband and she sobbed even harder.

What...what it happening...is this some kind of hollow?

Ichigo rushed in front of her, confronting the shapeshifter. "What are you!? Answer me! I'll destroy you!"

"With what power?"

Ichigo froze. He knew that voice. Far too well. Far far too well. He felt a hand on his cheek. "Poor boy, there's no way you can defeat me. I am a god. And you're just a ryoka." The word rolled off his tongue. "Oh," fake sympathy oozed like poison through his tone. "Can't you see? You never got away from me~"

The redhead shivered. "No, no you're gone you're gone you're gone!"

"Didn't you realize? None of that is real. You're still here, with me. You never left~ and nobody is ever coming for you~"

Ichigo looked up into the eyes of Aizen Sōsuke. "No. No. This isn't real!" He clutched at his head, breathing harshly as the memories burst their way to the surface.

"Oh but it is~ you see—"

He was cut off by a scream of "RIDDIKULUS!" From one Remus Lupin and the image of Aizen transformed into an ethereal image of the moon.

Ichigo stood petrified. "What...what was that?"

Remus and Molly turned to him, concern for the boy clear in their eyes. "That was a boggart, ichigo." Lupin explained softly, "it shows you your greatest fear."

Ah...well that would explain it. But it felt so real… he shook himself, trying to bring himself back to reality. It was harder without Shiro and Zangetsu grounding him. Because if I was still there, I'd failed and all whom I loved would be dead. And I'd still be there…

"Was that...was that something from the war you were in?" Molly asked him quietly. He nodded. "Oh honey…" she surrounded him in a hug, warm and comforting, the like of which he rarely got. "I'm sorry…"

Ichigo indulged himself in the hug before pulling away. "It's alright...are you getting rid of that thing?"

"Oh yes, don't you worry about a thing, alright?"

He nodded. "I'm going to go pack, if that's alright. I know we're leaving tomorrow."

"Of course!" The matriarch of the Weasley family gave him another hug before letting him go. "And rest alright? You better not catch cold!"

He bowed slightly. "Hai!"

Hermione POV

Hermione's eyes widened and she quickly went back to knitting to avoid detection by the transfer student. She'd seen the entire scene and she had to say, Kurosaki's boggart made her incredibly uncomfortable.

"Oh, hey Hermione."

"Hello! Don't mind me! I'm knitting hats for the house elves at Hogwarts! I'm the head of SPEW you know, working for better treatment of them. It's so horrible!"

Ichigo blinked, once, twice, before shaking his his head a little and nodding in acknowledgment. "Okay. I'll leave you to it then."

As soon as he left, the brilliant young witch leapt up to go find her friends.

"Harry! Ron!"

"Huh? Oh hey 'Mione!" Ron turned towards her, holding a headless chocolate frog in one hand.

"You won't believe what I just saw!" I hardly even know what to make of it myself!

"Yes?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "And what is it? You can't just say things like that and leave us hanging."

She sat herself down on one of the chairs — a nice red plush one with a lovelily embroidered pillow on it — looking intently at them through wisps of her curly brown hair. "I saw Kurosaki's boggart."

"I'm sorry what?" Harry looked at her with barely concealed interest. Since boggart were your worst fears, they told a lot about a person.

"There was a boggart in the dressing room. You know, the one Mrs Weasley talked to Mad-eye about?" At their nods, she continued. "Well Mrs Weasley was having trouble, and Ichigo, not knowing what it was, stepped in." She paused for a second.

"Alright, and what was it?" Ron asked impatiently.

"Honestly Ronald! I was getting to that!" She sighed. "As I was saying, Kurosaki stepped in, so it morphed to his fear. Harry...Ron...it spoke. It was this young and rather handsome man honestly, and he was talking to Ichigo about how none of this was real and he'd never ever left. He was stroking Ichigo's cheek. It was really disturbing..I didn't even know a boggart could do that."

Harry pat her shoulder awkwardly. "Hey, I'm sure he'll be okay." His voice was uncertain, but Hermione decided to accept the attempt at comfort.

"He said it was something from the war. It, it really shook him up. I think..I think he was a POW."

"A what?" Ron asked, mouth full of chocolate.

"A prisoner of war." Harry's eyes were serious. "They talk about them on the muggle news. Sometimes the Dursleys watch it. They generally turn it off though. Don't want to expose their precious Duddykins to such dark material."

"They're often tortured." Hermione explained. "Waterboarded, tortures for information, kept in prisons. I don't even want to know what happened to him...it sounds like he was tortured and gaslighted. Made to question reality."

"Oh.." Ron shared a glance with Harry. "That might explain his scars."

"Scars?" Well he was in a war, but many spells don't leave scars? Unless they were meant to…

"Yeah. A lot of scars 'Mione."

"We have a lot to tell you. And he has really bad nightmares too.."

And with this, the golden trio started discussing their findings, completely oblivious to the golden eyed black cat eyeing them with thinly veiled disgust.


	10. Chapter 10

The day soon came that ichigo and the horde of young wizards made their way to Hogwarts via platform 9 ¾. The existence of said platform had Ichigo spluttering, because _it was right there!_ What if someone fell in? Obviously nonwizards with magical children could get in! But when he voiced his concerns to Mrs Weasley, she waved them off with a,

"Don't be silly dear! Muggles wouldn't go in unless their children were attending!"

At this, Yoruichi had given her a less than impressed stare and stretched out on Ichigo's shoulders, clawing him.

He sighed. "Yeah yeah, I'll give you attention. You're having way too much fun with this aren't you." He addressed the cat lady, rolling his eyes. She hissed and dug her nails in. "Gah! Crazy cat!"

She twisted into his reiatsu. _Ichigo, breathe._

He did so, calmly walking with his bags into the magical wall. The Weasley twins had run into it, and so had the others.

"Are you excited?" Tonks asked him, hair a bubblegum pink. It reminded the former substitute shinigami of Yachiru.

"Yeah." He said, surprising himself with how true it was. "I actually am."

"Any idea what house?"

He shrugged. "They all seem to fit. I don't get the whole house rivalry the others are spewing. The whole idea honestly seems segregated and stupid."

She clapped his back and laughed. "I like you kid. I'll miss you."

He smiled a little at her. "Thanks Tonks. I'll miss you too. If GetaBoushi contacts you, try to reign him in okay? My teachers are insane."

"He's a mad scientist right?"

"Hai."

"You'll have fun with the potions Professor. Most people hate him! He's the head of slytherin, but if you actually appreciate potions, it's possible to get on his good side."

"Are Harry, Ron, and Hermione on his good side?"

Tonks stifled a chuckle. "Oh quite the opposite."

Ichigo shook his head, "antagonizing teachers? The horror!" A true but small smile graced his face. "Thank you so much Tonks."

"It's no problem Ichigo! Now off you go! Don't want the train to leave without you!"

"Hai!" Ichigo bowed quickly to her. "Ja Ne!" He ran to the train, hefting his bags with ease. Before long he stumbled into a compartment filled with Harry, Ginny, another boy about their age and a blonde girl with odd glasses utop her head.

She looked up, viewing Ichigo. "Oh, hello. You seem to be oddly clear of wrackspurts. Is it because of your awareness? Or prior exposure?"

He blinked a couple times. "Um, probably exposure? I'm not very aware currently." He was a little shellshocked. Was this girl talking about the spiritual world? _And what in the world are wrackspurts?_ He mentally rolled his eyes at himself. _A magical creature probably, dumbass. _His internal dialogue still sounded heart wrenchingly like Shiro. He doubted it ever wouldn't.

"Oh I'm so sorry! That must be painful. I'm Luna. Luna lovegood. Most people call me loony lovegood because they think I'm crazy." She told him, reading her magazine upside down.

"Well that's not very nice of them." Ichigo sat down next to her. "I'm ichigo. It's nice to meet you. I'm glad to finally meet a European wizard who is actually sane."

The others in the compartment gave him looks as if he was from another universe, which he guessed he kind of was, in a way.

Harry sighed dramatically. The kid was too dramatic in Ichigo's opinion. _Less sighing and more training would do him some good. Then he could be as melodramatic as he likes._ "Ron and Hermione are in the prefects carriage. They said they'd find us eventually. How're you doing Neville?" He asked, addressing the other teen.

"I'm good! Nan got me a present! And it's not a remembrall this time!" He pulled out an odd looking plant, a bit reminiscent of a cactus. "It's a mimbulus mimbletonia!" He said, looking at the small plant in awe. Ichigo couldn't help but smile a little at the enthusiasm. "It does a lot of things! And if you poke it here —" he did so and was cut off by it shooting an odd black goo all over them.

It was at this instant that a teen— a girl this time (or at least ichigo presumed they were a girl)— opened the compartment door. "Harry! I just wanted to say hi!...this doesn't seem to be the best moment though…" she waved an awkward goodbye.

Harry sighed once again. "If only Cho had come a moment sooner…"

"Who was that?" Ichigo asked, still covered in goop. "And this stuff isn't poisonous, is it?"

"That was Harry's girlfriend, Cho. Well, crush." Ginny explained wisely. "And don't worry, this is easy to get rid of." She quickly cast a spell to clean it up off of them. "There."

"Thanks Ginny." Neville said sheepishly. It does other things too really. I wasn't expecting that and I'm really sorry!"

"It's alright." Ichigo nodded at him, reminded of his friends. "It's nice to meet you Neville."

"Nice to meet you too."

"So Kurosaki, what house do you think you'll be in?" Harry asked, leaning forward. Ichigo could tell that the boy looked a little sad at not being around Ron and Hermione.

"I really don't know." The strawberry-blond scratched his neck. "Most would probably say I'm a gryffindor but I think hufflepuff or slytherin."

Ginny, Neville, and Harry stared at him. "Slytherin?" Harry asked incredulously.

_Well yeah. I mean I'll do anything. Literally anything to achieve my goals.._ "yeah. Protective of their own, will do anything to achieve their goals, ambitious. You know, slytherins and gryffindors seems to be two sides of the same coin. I really don't get the rivalry. It's stupid. Idiotic. Just like—" _just like the Quincy and shinigami… _"just like any prejudice. That's what it is. Prejudice, segregation, and setting children against each other from a young age. That can be fatal. Those you think are your enemies could be your greatest allies."

"That your experience?" The boy-who-lived asked. Ichigo nodded, sending the boy the message that yes, this was his experience from war.

Yoruichi purred quietly, feeling Ichigo's heartbeat speed up at the discussion of war. The boy scratched her neck, thankful. He really didn't want to have an attack. Especially not in front of so many people.

_Thank Kami for Yoruichi and GetaBoushi._

"Yeah. But who knows? I don't even know how sorting works."

Ginny giggled. "Don't listen to my brothers. They always spread the rumor that you have to fight a troll."

"Aww you don't?" Ichigo pouted. "But that'd be fun!"

"Uh mate?" Neville looked at him with wide eyes, "Are you insane?"

Ichigo shrugged, a dangerous grin on his face. "Yep!"


	11. Chapter 11

It wasn't too long until they reached Hogwarts. Sometime during the ride Hermione and Ron has joined them in the compartment, complaining about some guy named Malfoy. From the description, the rivalry seemed similar to Ichigo's with Uryu, so he really didn't get the big deal. (And said as much.)

"So this guy has been raised since birth to be prejudiced against you and instead of showing him he's wrong you just fine him more material to work with?" The strawberry asked, earning himself even more odd looks.

By the time they'd gotten into their robes, (still a fashion disaster), and the train had stopped, ichigo had managed to gain confused and or horrified looks from all in the compartment except for Luna. Said girl had cheerfully told him he had an aura that smelt of cherry blossoms surrounding him. He'd waved it off, saying his wand was cherrywood, but the whole situation had made him a bit of a blushing mess. _I smell like Byakuya? Gah I'm acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. Geeze. It's not like I haven't kissed anyone before_. _Why the hell am I swooning over him?_

As the train came to a halt, all screeches and mechanical noises clashing with the magical air surrounding everything. Ichigo breathed it in, feeling the dizzyingly blissful power of it as it flowed through him as if he was a conduit for the currents of this electrifying energy.

The screeching was the cue for much hassle as everyone bundled off the train.

"FIRST YEARS THIS WAY! FIRST YEARS THIS WAY!" A voice called out piercing through the crowds.

"Huh? Where's hagrid?" Harry sounded confused.

"Hagrid?" Ichigo raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Care of Magical Creatures teacher and our friend. He's usually the one bringing the first years to the castle. That's not him."

"Evidently."

Ichigo decided to follow those he knew instead of the first years. Hopefully it wasn't some grave mistake, but he figured he should go with those his year. At the end of the path he stopped in his tracks.

"What...what are those?" He heard Harry ask. The boy who lived seemed shocked.

"What're what mate?" Ron asked.

"Those things, pulling the carriages?"

The ex substitute shinigami understood his shock. Batwinged skeletal horses were pulling the carriages, looking far too much like hollows for comfort. They weren't. He knew that, but those wings..they reminded him far too much of Ulquiorra.

_Get a grip on yourself.._

"What are you talking about, Harry? There's nothing pulling the carriages. Never have been." Hermione looked at her friend quizzically. "Are you feeling quite alright?"

"Yeah. Nevermind."

"I can see them too." Luna told him dreamily. "So you're just as mad as I am."

Seeing how absolutely _wonderful _a job that did at reassuring the kid, ichigo went over to him. "I can see them too. It's not just you."

"Ah…"

He knew he'd probably just fueled his own 'mysteriousness' in the suspicious and nosy ongoings of the golden trio, but honestly he couldn't care less.

The castle was approaching. It was nothing like he had ever seen before, spires and towers, darkness and flickering lights. It was, well, magical — for lack of a better word.

"Wow…"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, that was my reaction too. It's really something, isn't it?"

"So des…"

He pulled out the flip phone and took a picture of the castle, sending it to Byakuya. _I wonder if he'd like it or hate it?_

"Excuse me, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

"Eh?" He looked up to see a stern looking woman peering down through her glasses at him. "Yes, that's me."

"Come this way, will you?"

"Hai." He bowed and got out of the carriage, joining her.

"I am Professor McGonagall, transfiguration Professor, head of gryffindor house and deputy headmistress here at Hogwarts. As you are a new student, you must be sorted. I assume you have been filled in on the four houses?"

Ichigo nodded. "Hai. Although the house rivalry is not something I abide by."

The Professor regarded him with interest. "Is that so? Interesting. Now," she led him to a giant set of ornate doors, each about thrice his height. "Wait here until I call your name. You will be sorted after the first years. Understood?"

"Hai." He nodded and bowed, traditional sensibilities taking over. "Thank you, McGonagall-Sensei."

She seemed a bit surprised to be named such, and smiled a little. "I do hope you'll be in Gryffindor, Mr. Kurosaki. I do believe we'll get along. But any which way, I'll still see you in transfiguration."

"I look forward to it."

The professor nodded and walked away, presumably to gather the first years.

Ichigo sat himself down against the wall, hoping that everything either would, or wouldn't go awry. _Everything has been so boring. But I want to fit...at least a little. Ugh, it's stupid, but I miss the Soul Society." _He tapped his shoe to the beat of a song stuck in his head, waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

Suddenly, from inside the room, he heard his voice.

"Kurosaki, Ichigo."

He threw open the doors, hands in his pockets and a smirk set on his face. _Always one to make a grand entrance_.

He saw the hat upon the stool at the head off the Great Hall, and, correctly guessing that he needed to put it on, he strolled up to it and put it on.

_Oh! Well that's interesting~_

Ichigo stiffened, hearing a voice in his head for the first time in almost 2 years.

_You're protected, aren't you Mr Kurosaki._

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

_Sure you don't. Now, mr Ex-shinigami—_

'You know who I am? How?'

'_I'm a mind reading hat. Well, I read memories and souls and I can hear you. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. I keep your secrets.'_

He relaxed slightly.

_Now that's interesting as well~ you're extremely loyal. To a fault I'd say, but your ambition knows no bounds. You're so close to who your enemy was, aren't you~ lonely, powerful, dangerously smart. But so far from him as well. You have this strong moral code but it's so different than others'. You'd do anything, anything to achieve your goals. You make the impossible happen. Now, on the surface you appear to be a Gryffindor, but that's not quite right is it._

'No...it isn't..'

_You're not foolishly brave, you're foolishly loyal to your own. But you know when to let go. You know when you can't only be a good person, you need to take matters into your own hands. And what's this? Your mentors and your little crush._

Ichigo growled.

_Fine, not a little crush. You're not that basic. But all three, cunning, smart, manipulative, and you are so much like them~ I think the choice is obvious. You have two options, Mr Ex-Shinigami, and before you go, I have some information for you~_

'Information? What do you know?'

_You have protection here in your mind~ they're locked away, but it's all there._

Ichigo could've sobbed in joy at that. 'You know my choice. It's been evident I think, from the very beginning.'

_In that case….._

"SLYTHERIN!"

Ichigo tore off the hat, beaming, and sauntered over to the green house, and catching Luna's eye at the blue one.


	12. Chapter 12

Ichigo sat down, leisurely lounging on the bench. Everyone around him was cheering and screaming, which honestly sounded vaguely like battle cries. It was comforting.

A white blonde teen leaned towards him slightly, hand outstretched. "I'm Malfoy. Draco malfoy. Prefect of Slytherin house. And you?"

Ichigo noted that this was the boy the trio had been complaining about. _Hmm. He obviously is very proud of his name. Reminds me of Uryū._ "Kurosaki ichigo." He said, shaking the proffered hand. On an impulse, judging that the boy was quite fond of status, he continued. "Well, Shiba Ichigo, if we're going technical. My father took my mother's name."

"How...interesting."

_Oops. Okay, think ichigo, think. _"The Shiba family is one of the high noble families. However, my father met my mother whom he thought was mundane—"

"Mundane?"

Ichigo waved him off. "I dislike the word muggle and we don't use it in Japan. So, turns out she's actually from a branch of the Ishida family. They are very pureblood and pride themselves on it. Different type of respected family though. Their magic is a bit different. But yeah. So, my father stayed with her and took her last name, Kurosaki. His niece, my cousin, is the head of the Shiba family now."

Malfoy nodded. "My father is the head of the Malfoy house. We're of the Ancient house of black."

Ichigo internally smirked. He'd played him like a fiddle. "Well it's nice to meet you."

"You too. Now, you're a transfer student, correct? Father says you're not from the main school. I must say, I am intrigued."

"Oh no, I'm from a private school." _I'm completely pulling this out of my ass_ "The Japanese magic and spirit community recently had a war. My school is one which trains its students to protect people, magical or mundane. Because of this, most didn't know that a war was going on, but those who are essential our Aurors suffered many deaths."

"I didn't hear of a war." The teen was sharp, ichigo had to give it to him, but it was infuriating.

"That's because we did a lot to keep people safe. But an entire town disappeared for a while, everyone was knocked unconscious, and then it reappeared. Karakura town. It was because it was the front lines of the war at that time and we needed to protect the civilians. But that's beside the point. My school is pretty small. Personally, I have two mentors. Shihouin yoruichi and Urahara kisuke. They're absolutely brilliant, extremely powerful, terrifyingly incredible and magic, and absolutely insane. As in, she's a crazy cat lady who we all thought was a damn cat for months because she'd never transformed back to human when we were around, and he's a literal mad scientist. Plus magic. It's terrifying but I love them."

Draco listened intently. This school sounded extremely different from hogwarts, but incredible. It seemed to break the rules in ways his father would never approve of. "What's it called?"

Ichigo minutely stiffened, thinking hard. _Gah I miss Ossan and Shiro! Especially in times like this. _"Shinhana academy." He blurted out. _Huh. Death flower. That's actually pretty fitting._

Malfoy nodded. "Pretty secretive, is it?"

Ichigo looked into his eyes, meeting the challenge. Here was one in a kindred spirit to Ishida. Quick as a whip, with a tongue of steel and years of prejudice taught to him. "Quite. You won't find it in any records."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Yama O-jii, Yamamoto that is, our headmaster, is very diligent about these things."

Their eyes met, gold challenging steely grey, one ever so slightly from the grey eyes of another noble. A small smile stretched across ichigo's lips as Malfoy raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. The former substitute shinigami smirked.

"Now, what's this I hear about a war?" He lounged, one leg over the other.

Malfoy wasn't even phased. "Ah, that. The dark lord has returned. The idiots in the ministry and anyone who reads the Prophet think Potter and Dumbledore are just making it up. They're idiots. The headmaster may be loony and Potter is Potter, but they aren't lying."

"I'm going to go on a limb and assume this Dark Lord is Voldy?"

The boy's expression was so hilarious that Ichigo almost cracked up. Eyes bugged out, eyebrows drawn up incredulously, it was amazing. "Voldy?"

"Yep. his name means Flight of Death. It's ridiculous. I mean I'm not one who can judge - my own name means One Protector, but also means strawberry. But since his whole premise is ridiculous, I decided to shorten his name."

Draco looked affronted. "Excuse me? The dark lord is powerful and right. Mudbloods shouldn't be wizards. We purebloods have actual magic, unlike those worms."

"Uh uh uh uh, I'd be careful about that thinking if I were you. Those born of mundanes actually have purer magic. Don't interrupt, listen to me. Because they are the first in their line with magic, it hasn't been diluted through generations." He shook his head, "You really should meet Ishida. Pride filled bastard, but he's also my cousin. We didn't know that at first. Hated each other actually, just because of who we were. Because of my type of magic, he hated me. There had been a civil war 200 years ago, you see. Those who wielded my mother's branch of magic were almost completely wiped out. Because they were were disrupting the balance."

"What? How can that happen?"

"War."

"But… when the dark lord was first in power, he didn't even come close to wiping out mudbloods."

Ichigo slammed his fists onto the table. "Have you been listening to what I'm saying? Kami you're just like Potter-san. I assume that you're essentially being forced to be his counterpart, am I right? This war will be painful and pointless, and none of you are prepared."

_Wow, really snapped there, didn't you?_ The words rang through his head. It hurt, how much his inner voice sounded like Shiro.

The white-blonde gaped at him. "Well then. And if we do an exchange?"

"Hrm?"

"I give you information on the state of the european wizarding war, and you prepare me for this war." the smirk on his lips showed the intellect hiding behind the bluster and prejudice.

"Sounds good."

"Shake on it?"

Ichigo nodded, extending his hand. They shook firmly. Their whispered conversation had certainly had an impact on the young wizard and it showed.

"Now quiet. I think your Sensei is about to speak."


	13. Chapter 13

They had all finished eating, plates laden with food significantly depleted. Ichigo sighed. He'd enjoyed the food, but it was much too rich for him. Japanese cooking was generally lighter and healthier than british cooking, it seemed.

During the meal, Ichigo had been talked at by quite a few of his house-mates - friends of Malfoy, it seemed. Pansy Parkinson had seemed stuck up, but overly curious. Crabbe and Goyle were two whom the teen couldn't understand how they could be so unintelligent. They seemed to base all of their opinions off of Malfoy's, never thinking for themselves. Not all of the Slytherin table was annoying however. A blonde named Daphne seemed nice enough and Blaise Zabini seemed to have a similar sense of sass and dry humor to the ex-substitute shinigami.

Their attention was drawn with a ringing noise coming from the head table.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," The headmaster - _Dumbdoor_, Ichigo's brain supplied - rose to his feet, magnificent robes which defied all the laws of fashion drawing the eye. "First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students–and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too." He pointedly glanced towards the Gryffindor table, causing Malfoy and Ichigo to chuckle. _Oh I'm going to have fun breaking these rules._ "Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time,"

"I counted!" was heard quietly, making Ichigo almost choke on laughter.

"to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door. We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. "

There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause. Draco looked apprehensive. "That oaf Hagrid isn't teaching? Odd." he turned to Ichigo, "He might be a clumsy idiot, but his classes are interesting. I hope this woman is interesting at least."

Ichigo nodded. "And the pink toad?"

Draco chuckled. "Probably the most apt description given ever. That's madame Umbridge, possible the most horrendous woman i've ever met, and I know my aunt."

The other boy nodded solemnly. "Truly a bold statement."

"She's not just into blood purity; she's into no magical creatures, no hybrids-" ichigo stiffened, _and I'm about as hybrid as it gets… "- _everyone has to be the norm, and we've all got to follow the ministry. Father agrees that it's a load of shit, but that we have to stay on her goodside. My great-grandmother was a veela, and we don't want news of that going to her."

"Yeah I bet. Waiiiiitttt… if you're part Veela, does that mean all the guys, gals, and nonbinary pals are after you?"

He bonked his head against the table, "Don't remind me. Luckily, Potter accidently directs them towards him and I just scare off everybody else."

Ichigo smirked, chin resting on his hand. _Rivalry? Hmm I wonder if I could play matchmaker? I think I did a pretty good job with Inoue and Ishida. Hmmm._

Dumbledore continued, "Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the–"

He broke off, looking questioningly at the pink amphibian lady. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge cleared her throat with a high pitched and highly annoying, "Hem, hem," and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as anyone had seen it. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts. The slytherins leaned in. Many of them disliked Dumbledore, but they also liked tradition; this woman was _not_ following tradition.

"Thank you, Headmaster," She simpered, tone painfully sugary sweet, "'for those kind words of welcome. " Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish.

As she surveyed the room, Ichigo glared into her eyes, muttering "You give pink a bad name. Honestly, if you're going to wear it, at least be badass like Kyoraku-taichou or Rangiku-san."

She gave another little throat-clearing cough ("hem, hem") and continued. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"

Ichigo grimaced. None of the faces he could see looked happy. On the contrary, they all looked rather taken-aback at being addressed as though they were five years old. Personally, he greatly wished to spring up across the table and rip her throat out for addressing him as such. Unbeknownst to him, his scalera darkened a tad, before becoming normal again.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

Students exchanged looks at this; some of them were barely concealing grins.

"I'll be her friend as long as I don't have to borrow that cardigan," Pansy whispered to Daphne and both of them lapsed into silent giggles.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ('hem, hem'), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike, voice dull, as if the lines had been practiced tons of times. _Probably in front of a mirror while admiring her reflection, _Ichigo thought, _She seems like the type._

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching. "

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back to her. Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike, and Ichigo distinctly noted her exchanging a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little 'hem, hem' and went on with her speech.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation . . . "

Ichigo tried to keep his focus, but his mind was too busy poking fun at every line the woman said to actually listen fully. The quiet that had filled the Hall was breaking up as students put their heads together, whispering and giggling. Only a few were listening, eyes looking glazed over.

"Is granger-san the only one paying attention?" Ichigo asked malfoy quietly. "Besides us I mean."

He nodded, not moving his gaze from the woman. "At least the mudblood is showing more intellect than the others. Madame Umbridge is dangerous. She is more prejudiced than the dark lord yet too much of a coward to kill anyone. However, she is an influential member of the Ministry."

Ichigo nodded, listening carefully.

Professor Umbridge did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience. A full-scale riot probably could have broken out under her nose and she would have ploughed on with her speech. " . . because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Harry noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. "Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held . . . "

Ichigo turned to the noble boy sitting next to him. "Well fuck."

"Agreed."

"She has weird charisma. What she's saying on the surface sounds reasonable, but…"

"Subtext. I told you. The ministry is a bunch of idiots. Dumbledore is a muggle loving idiot, but the ministry are just full on idiots."

"And you're a muggleborn hating idiot, but we won't hold it against you." Ichigo added with a teasing grin. He chuckled at the flabbergasted look on the boy's face.

"I- how rude!"

"Yep."

"Aren't you going to apologize?"

"Nope."

"And you say you're a noble?"

"Mmhm. one of the most respected and most insane families."

Malfoy looked as if he might faint. "Alright then. I'm sure my father would love to meet the head of your house."

Now it was Ichigo's turn to almost faint. He sweatdropped. "Oh goodness…. Kukaku or my dad? They're both equally insane. I hear it's a Shiba thing. Probably my dad though. Luckily they can be serious when they need to be."

Malfoy nodded weakly. "I do believe I must go and show our newest students - that means you Kurosaki! - to the common room. Shall we?"

"We shall." Ichigo shook his head fondly. He was going to have a blast torturing this school. The teen already had a plan to break down barriers and prepare the kids for the coming war. _This'll be funnnn._

"First year Slytherins! Follow me!"


	14. Chapter 14

The slytherin common room was unlike anything Ichigo had ever seen before. Green-tinted lanterns flooded the room with dim light, Leather couches and tall bar stool littered the area, and a gorgeous and ornate fireplace stood encircled by furniture, containing brilliant emerald flames. The entire room had a classy illegal bar feel, which was honestly kind of comforting. Windows were inlaid in the walls, looking out into the depths of the lake.

"Our room is this way, Kurosaki."

Ichigo nodded and followed malfoy down a winding staircase, passing 2 floors before getting off.

"You'll be rooming with Zabini, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, and I. The other fifth year boy's dorms are down the hallway."

Ichigo almost gasped as he stepped into the room, thoroughly unused to the luxury which awaited his eyes. The beds were four poster, the curtains of which being deep emerald velvet.

"Wow.." At Malfoy's puzzled expression, he continued. "At my school," _In the Seireitei _ "we sleep on futon and the rooms don't have many furnishings. Japan is much more minimalistic."

"Ah. I see. Well, I'm sure that during your stay we'll be able to show you the superiority of great Britain."

The red-head looked at him flatly. "In Japan, It is also impolite to insult one's culture."

The rich boy shivered. "I shall endeavour to not cross such lines again."

"Do so. I'm going to sleep."

He stripped off his shirt, hung up his robes, and pulled the special phone out of his bag. Before getting in bed, He reverently traced the design on the badge which he still - even after a year - carried with him. Nostalgia and pain flooded through him and it took all his strength to focus instead on the addictive ambient magic in the castle.

He slid into bed, drew the curtains, and turned on the phone. There was a message from Byakuya.

**Zanpakuto-up-my-ass: That castle is magnificent**

**Ichigo: Isn't it!? I've never seen anything like it. Then again, castles here are very different than in japan**

**Z: Indeed**

**I: So my new Defense against the dark arts teacher is a racist, homophobic, bigoted piece of trash apparently. And that's coming from my housemate who is also a racist asshole.**

**Z: Sumimasen….what?**

**I: Yep.**

**Z: Do be careful**

**I: I will! When have you known me to jump head first into dangerous situations?**

**Z:...I'm not even going to answer that**

**I: ugh. Don't tell Rukia, but I prefered her sleeping in my fucking closet to sharing a room with these prejudiced guys. And they snore!**

**I: Byakuya?**

**I: Hello?**

**I: Are you okay?**

**Z: pardon me. I almost choked**

**I: lollll**

**Z: What is L O L?**

**I:...**

**I: wow**

**I: at least youre better at this than your sister**

**I: it means laughing out loud**

**Z: I see. Well then, yes. Lol.**

**Z:**

**Z:**

**Z: will you be okay?**

**I: aw! I knew you cared. Somewhere in that stony exterior there's a soft interior. Knew it**

**Z: To take a leaf out of my lieutenant's book, do Shut the fuck up Kurosaki**

**I: ah, I see. Got a reputation to keep. Can't ruin that**

**Z: well perhaps **

**I: ...did you just?**

**Z: I said nothing. Dont go jumping to conclusions, Kurosaki**

**I: very well, byakuya**

**Z….**

**Z: you know full well it's Kuchiki-taichou**

**I: yeah, yeah, byakuya**

**I:Oyasuminasai**

**Z: Oyasumi, Ichigo.**

Ichigo smiled. He could imagine the high-strung noble trying not to explode from his impudence. He gently slipped the phone into his bag and closed his eyes, hoping for some semblance of rest.

Rest didn't really come. By morning he'd received a grand total of 3 hours of sleep. It wasn't the worst, but it certainly wasn't the best either. At breakfast they received their schedules, which had Malfoy muttering about how irritating it was to have classes with Gryffindors. Ichigo pointedly ignored him.

Sadly, and to the transfer student's great disappointment, History of Magic was by far the most boring subject ever devised. Professor Binns, their ghost teacher, had a wheezy, droning voice that was almost guaranteed to cause severe drowsiness within ten minutes, five in warm weather. He never varied the form of their lessons, but lectured them without pausing while they took notes, or rather, gazed sleepily into space. Ichigo had had his fair share of horrible Sensei, but his one really took the cake. It also almost made him have a heart attack. When he'd been able to see the ghost, he had nearly had a panic attack. He couldn't see a hollow hole of a chain of fate on the ghost, making it even stranger. The subject - Giant wars - could've probably been interesting, but it really wasn't. To make matters worse, they had the class with the Ravenclaws, half of which were listening intently and the other half of which were fidgeting and goofing off. It was exhausting, but also pretty familiar. A ghost? Check. Rowdy classmates? Check. Boring AF subject? Triple check. honestly, the only things separating it from Karakura high were magic and the lack of conspicuous bathroom breaks.

After History of magic, instead of getting a free-period, (He'd heard his housemates getting butthurt over the fact that the Gryffindors got one while they were in said class), they went straight to potions.

"Its taught by professor Snape." Malfoy told Ichigo, head held high as if he was some snooty prince. "He's the head of Slytherin and as such takes a liking to us. He also despises Potter, so there's always great amusement from that.

This in no way made the teen look forward to the class. Picking on one kid? That just wasn't okay. Especially as it was a teacher doing the bullying. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and, as the doors leading to the professor's dungeon classroom creaked open ominously, he followed the other students and walked in.

Ichigo spied Harry, Ron, and Hermione on the other side of the room as he sought a seat. Eventually, he ended with the boy from the train. _I think his name is Neville?_

'Settle down,' said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him.

There was no real need for the call to order; the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Ichigo was impressed. The man had a commanding voice similar to that which he associated with taicho.

"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an "Acceptable" in your OWL, or suffer my . . . displeasure. "

His gaze lingered this time on Neville, who gulped.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye."

His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Harry glared back.

"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell,' said Snape softly, 'so, whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students. Now, seeing as we have a new student today," his sounded as if tasting something unpleasant, "I'd like to remind the class that there will be no foolish wand-waving or fooling around in my classroom. Doing so will result in my displeasure and consequences."

Ichigo was immensely grateful for the professor having explained the exams that morning. He would've been hopelessly confused otherwise.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing." Ichigo raised an eyebrow in interest. _Maybe it would help my PTSD… _"The ingredients and method–" Snape flicked his wand "–are on the blackboard–" (they appeared there) "–you will find everything you need–" he flicked his wand again "–in the store cupboard–" (the door of the said cupboard sprang open) "–you have an hour and a half . . . start."

Snape could hardly have set them a more difficult, fiddly potion. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities; the mixture had to be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly in clockwise, then in anti-clockwise directions; the heat of the flames on which it was simmering had to be lowered to exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added. The ex-shinigami smiled as he read the instructions, then frowned briefly. He raised his hand.

Professor snape walked over. "Yes Mr. Kurosaki?"

"Ah, pardon me Sensei, but I have a question. My potion's book has a slightly different recipe...It might be a different edition of the book? Which should I use?"

The professor looked surprised. "No student has asked me before, or caught the difference. Use your book's." he looked at the small comment written on the margin. "What is this?"

Ichigo blushed. "Since the potion deals with anxiety, I figured chocolate could help. It's been known to help relieve depression and stress."

"Don't put chocolate in. serve the consumer a piece of semi-sweet dark chocolate right after they drink it. To do otherwise would be foolish and lead to… shall we say, unfortunate outcomes."

Ichigo nodded. "Thank you professor."

He continued to make the potion, explaining the steps gently to Neville. The poor boy had almost messed up the potion countless times because of how scared he was.

"It's like cooking. Or chemistry."

"What's chemistry?"

He sighed a long-suffering sigh. "Okay. so, think of it this way. Each of these ingredients has its own properties. They react with other ones in different ways. When combined properly, the reaction causes the potion to form."

_Thank Kami I payed attention in chemistry last year. If we'd had it during the Winter War I'd have no idea what I was doing besides a basic knowledge of cooking,_

"Okay… Okay… like baking. I know how to bake...I think…"

"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion," called Snape, with ten minutes left to go.

Ichigo looked around. Potter's cauldron was issuing copious amounts of dark grey steam; Ron's was spitting green sparks. Seamus was feverishly prodding the flames at the base of his cauldron with the tip of his wand, as they seemed to be going out. The surface of Hermione's potion, however, was a shimmering mist of silver vapour, and as Snape swept by he looked down his hooked nose at it without comment, which meant he could find nothing to criticise. His own cauldron received a sharp nod of approval and nothing else. He could tell that he wasn't hated, but wasn't favored either.

At Harry's cauldron, however, Snape stopped, and looked down at it with a horrible smirk on his face.

"Potter, what is this supposed to be?"

The Slytherins at the front of the class all looked up eagerly; they loved hearing Snape taunt Harry. Ichigo facepalmed, trying not to die of secondhand embarrassment.

"The Draught of Peace," said Harry tensely.

"Tell me, Potter," said Snape softly, "can you read?"

Draco Malfoy laughed.

"Yes, I can," said Harry, his fingers clenched tightly around his wand.

"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter."

"To be fair, professor," Ichigo interjected, "Perhaps he needs a new prescription."

He was pointedly ignored.

Harry squinted at the blackboard; it was not easy to make out the instructions through the haze of multi-coloured steam now filling the dungeon.

"Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counter-clockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes then add two drops of syrup of hellebore. "

Harry's heart sank. He had not added syrup of hellebore, but had proceeded straight to the fourth line of the instructions after allowing his potion to simmer for seven minutes.

"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?"

"No," said Harry very quietly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No," said Harry, more loudly. "I forgot the hellebore."

"I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Evanesce."

The contents of Harry's potion vanished; he was left standing foolishly beside an empty cauldron.

"Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name and bring it up to my desk for testing," said Snape. "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."

While everyone around him filled their flagons, Ichigo noticed the-boy-who-lived's seething expression. He felt bad for the boy, he did, - nobody deserved such blatant discrimination - but he really should've checked his work. The kid's potion had been no worse than Ron's, which was now giving off a foul odour of bad eggs, and yet it would be Harry who would be receiving zero marks for the day's work. It wasn't fair, but then again, life isn't fair. _If it was, then i'd still have Shiro and Ossan.._

Ichigo's attention was drawn out of his thoughts by neville, who was beaming.

"Thank you so much Ichigo!" the teen almost bust a blood vessel at the causal address _oh hell no. I'm becoming Toshiro _"This is the first time I haven't messed up a potion in years!"

"Well, i hope I helped."

"You definitely did! Thank you!"

And so, the boy hurried off, leaving Ichigo to bring their potion to the front.

_Huh. for a first couple classes, this isn't that bad._


	15. Chapter 15

nsfer, who nodded.

"Isn't this supposed to be a defence class?" ichigo whispered, "I don't see any things for martial arts."

Malfoy gaped at him - which was becoming a new norm - "Defensive and offensive spellcasting.

"The fuck? Where's the physical education?" the teen rolled his eyes.

"um…."

Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:

Defence Against the Dark Arts

A Return to Basic Principles

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year. You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please. "

She rapped the blackboard again. The first message vanished and was replaced by:

Course Aims:

1\. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2\. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used

3\. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

Ichigo downright hissed, gaining curious looks from both Malfoy and the golden trio. _Legally. What goddamn nonsense. And this says nothing about actually practicing. What a load of bullshit._

For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she asked, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.

"I think we'll try that again,' said Professor Umbridge. 'When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, "Yes, Professor Umbridge", or "No, Professor Umbridge". So: has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," rang through the room, hiding Ichigo's rather vehement, "can i rip her throat out?"

"Good," said Professor Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read "Chapter One, Basics for Beginners". There will be no need to talk."

Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes. Ichigo turned to page five of his copy of Defensive Magical Theory and started to read.

It was desperately dull, quite as bad as listening to Professor Binns. He felt his concentration sliding away from him; he had soon read the same line half a dozen times without taking in more than the first few words. Several silent minutes passed. Across the room from him, Ron was absent-mindedly turning his quill over and over in his fingers, staring at the same spot on the page. Ichigo looked up from the dreadfully boring book - it said much and explained little - and noticed that Hermione had not even opened her copy of Defensive Magical Theory. She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air.

The-boy-who-lived looked at his friend enquiringly, but she merely shook her head slightly to indicate that she was not about to answer questions, and continued to stare at Professor Umbridge, who was looking just as resolutely in another direction.

After several more minutes had passed, however, Ichigo and Harry were not the only one watching Hermione. The chapter they had been instructed to read was so tedious that more and more people were choosing to watch Hermione's mute attempt to catch Professor Umbridge's eye rather than struggle on with 'Basics for Beginners'.

When more than half the class were staring at Hermione rather than at their books, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.

"Not about the chapter, no," said Hermione.

"Well, we're reading just now," Umbridge smiled disturbingly, showing her small pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims," Hermione explained.

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.

"And your name is?"

"Hermione Granger," said Hermione.

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.

"Well, I don't," said Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard.

"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

_Well pardon me for being a little paranoid, _Ichigo mentally growled

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron exclaimed loudly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. –?"

"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air.

Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. Harry and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Hermione. Ichigo crossed his arms behind his head lounging back in his chair and propping his legs up on the desk.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge, in her falsely sweet voice.

"No, but–"

'"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the "whole point" of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new programme of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way–"

"What use is that?" said Harry loudly. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a–"

"Hand, Mr Potter!" sang the pink toad lady.

Harry thrust his fist in the air. Again, Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him, but now several other people had their hands up, too.

"And your name is?" Professor Umbridge said to Dean.

"Dean Thomas."

"Well, Mr Thomas?"

'Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?' said Dean. 'If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free. '

"I repeat," said Professor Umbridge, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dean, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

"No, but–"

Professor Umbridge talked over him. "I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school," she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed–not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."

At this, Ichigo would've thrown himself out of his seat if not for Malfoy holding him back. "Kurosaki, don't be careless!"

"I don't care! I'll show her just how dangerous 'half-breeds' can be!" he growled in a distinctive two-tone voice, before freezing, stunned.

"If you mean Professor Lupin," piped up Dean angrily, "he was the best we ever–"

"Hand,Mr Thomas! As I was saying–you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day–"

"No we haven't," Hermione said, "we just–"

"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"

Hermione put up her hand. Professor Umbridge turned away from her.

"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you."

"Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" said Dean hotly. 'Mind you, we still learned loads. But he _was_ a death eater, which disproves your point"

"Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!" trilled Professor Umbridge. "Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?" she added, staring at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up.

"Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?"

_Thank you for having some common sense. I was beginning to think all of you lacked it. I mean, i'm not one to judge._

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," Umbridge dismissed.

"Without ever practising them beforehand?" said Parvati incredulously. "Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?"

"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough–"

"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" said Harry loudly, his fist in the air again.

"Potter shut up. I agree, but Kami, shut up." the former substitute shinigami muttered.

Professor Umbridge looked up.

"This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly.

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?"

"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter."

Ichigo lazily raised his hand and spoke. "Wow, you western wizards sure are ignorant."

"Excuse me? Mr…"

"Kurosaki. You are ignorant. Your dark wizards aren't the only ones who can hurt. Tell me. If there is nothing waiting out there, then how was my mother murdered when I was nine?"

The class gasped.

"Mr Kurosaki! This is uncalled for!"

"Excuse me, i think it is. You call yourself a teacher yet you yourself are spreading lies. Defense is important, madame." his voice lowered, "I've been in fucking conflict, professor. Mafia's exist throughout the world, both magical and mundane. Serial killers, rapists, abusers, they exist. Sometimes, those you trust can be the ones ready to kill you at a moment's notice. My father is a healer, madame. I see the damage people do to other people. It's not pretty. So I'm sorry if you think that nothing's out there," his voice slipped into the dual-tone, "because that means youre what people go for first."

"Detention Mr Kurosaki!"

"Oh alright." he shrugged.

"I repeat, nothing. Is. Out. there. We have a lot of protection nowadays and you young children have nothing to fear,"

"Oh, yeah?" said Harry. His temper, which seemed to have been bubbling just beneath the surface all day, was reaching boiling point. Ichigo facepalmed, instinctively knowing what was going to happen.

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" enquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.

"Hmm, let's think . . . ' said Harry in a mock thoughtful voice. 'Maybe . . . Lord Voldemort?"

Ron gasped; Lavender Brown uttered a little scream; Neville slipped sideways off his stool. The slytherins all froze. Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face. Ichigo raised an eyebrow. He really didn't understand the whole fuss about the name. That would be like screaming anytime anyone said Aizen. Well…everybody kind of froze if Aizen was brought up or they hit something, so maybe that wasn't the best comparison.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

The classroom was silent and still. Everyone was staring at either Umbridge or Harry.

"Now, let me make a few things quite plain."

Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned towards them, her stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk.

"You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead–"

"He wasn't dead," said Harry angrily, "but yeah, he's returned!"

"Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-house-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself," Professor Umbridge screamed in one breath without looking at him. "As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie. "

"It is NOT a lie!" said Harry. "I saw him, I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr Potter!" said Professor Umbridge triumphantly. "Tomorrow evening. You and Mr. Kurosaki. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, "Basics for Beginners"."

Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk. Harry, however, stood up. Everyone was staring at him; Seamus looked half-scared, half-fascinated.

"Harry, no!" Hermione whispered in a warning voice, tugging at his sleeve, but Harry jerked his arm out of her reach.

"Potter, you're an idiot. Sit down." Ichigo groaned. Malfoy sat next to him, staring in fascination. Detest for the teacher was clear in his eyes as well as slight delight at watching Harry get chewed out.

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?" Harry asked, his voice shaking.

There was a collective intake of breath from the class, for none of them, apart from Ron and Hermione, had ever heard Harry talk about what had happened on the night Cedric had died. They stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge, who had raised her eyes and was staring at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face.

_Oh fuck..._

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," she said coldly.

"It was murder," said Harry. He could feel himself shaking. He had hardly spoken to anyone about this, least of all thirty eagerly listening classmates. "Voldemort killed him and you know it."

Professor Umbridge's face was quite blank. For a moment, Ichigo thought she was going to scream at him. Then she said, in her softest, most sweetly girlish voice, "Come here, Mr. Potter, dear. Ichigo shivered. All the fake sweet names were making his skin crawl; he could _feel_ Aizen's hand under his chin, forcing his gaze upwards. _Snap out of it. _Harry kicked his chair aside, strode around Ron and Hermione and up to the teacher's desk. He could feel the rest of the class holding its breath. He felt so angry he did not care what happened next. Professor Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink and started scribbling, hunched over so that Harry could not see what she was writing. Nobody spoke. After a minute or so she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand; it sealed itself seamlessly so that he could not open it. "Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear,"Umbridge purred, holding out the note to him.

He took it from her without saying a word, turned on his heel and left the room, not even looking back at Ron and Hermione, slamming the classroom door shut behind him.

"Well that went well." Ichigo broke the stunned silence. "For what it's worth professor, I do believe you've lost all the concentration of your students. And oh look! The period is almost over." He swung his legs off his desk. "Oh, and for the future, _never_ try to tell a class that their classmates death didn't happen." He stood up suddenly. "Class. Fucking. Dismissed."


	16. Chapter 16

The rest of the day wasn't particularly pleasant. The news of Potter's shouting match with the new professor had somehow managed to reach the ears of seemingly all the students at Hogwarts, leading Ichigo to believe that the school had an even more impressive gossip network than the Seireitei, a fact which seemed impossible.

As soon as he'd left the classroom, all the adrenaline dropped from his body, leaving the redhead practically an exhausted blob, supported only by the snotty, platinum blonde on his left and the black cat upon his shoulders. Yoruichi had leapt down the hallways, probably knowing something was up. She always did, really. The ways of the Onmitsukido never truly lefta member, much less the leader of the organization.

She nudged his head with hers forcibly.

"Stop it, yoruichi-san. I know." he grumped at the cat lady. She hissed in response. "Thanks. Helpful as always."

"Are you talking to your cat?" Malfoy questioned, the look on his face suggesting at Ichigo's lack of sanity.

"Yep!" he scratched behind her ear, smiled when she purred. _Thank you…_

"She can't understand you, you know. Cats aren't on a level of sentience as humans." he scoffed.

"Are you sure of that?" amusement glittered behind Ichigo's signature scowl. "I've always found her to be highly intelligent and intuitive." the cat hissed. "Calm down, Yoruichi-san. He wasn't insulting you."

She tilted her head, have the teen another affectionate headbutt, leapt off his shoulder and strolled down the hallway.

"Alright then." ichigo shrugged. He took a closer look at his fellow Slytherin. "Are you alright?"

"What?" the boy seemed genuinely surprised at the question. "Oh, yes. I'm quite alright. Just wondering.."

"About what?"

"Madame Umbridge."

"Ah."

"She's an idiot. The dark lord _is_ back, and almost all of us Slytherins know it. Not just those of us," the like me went unspoken, "who have family who were involved with him. It's a fact. and, as much as it pains me to admit it… The gryffindors do have one thing right. We need to learn how to fight."

"Now do we.." an honestly dangerous smirk appeared on Ichigo's lips and he jumped onto the next flight of moving staircases.

Malfoy gasped and almost screamed. "Kurosaki!"

"Join me! Your first lesson starts now! Too frightened? Alright." he ran up the steps and jumped suddenly onto the staircase that Malfoy was on. "Keep your balance! I didn't knock you over, good job."

"W-what?"

"Best way to teach people survival skills trust me. It's no shattered shaft, but I'm fairly certain that wouldn't work on you guys. Besides, I wouldn't want to even try."

Malfoy's expression clearly read large amounts of confusion.

Ichigo smirked and ruffled his hair. "C'mon kid. You may be fucking prejudiced," malfoy spluttered, "but you've got kidness somewhere in that heart of yours. You just gotta learn resolve. And an ability to brush aside what others think of you. Damn the consequences. I'll teach you to survive, but you have to teach yourself to live."

"I don't understand. And your language Kurosaki! So vulgar. Were you raised by a bunch of hounds?"

"Nah, just an idiot and my two sisters." he grinned. "I did tell you I was just in a war, right? Well there's a reason I survived." _I owe my life to you… Shiro...Ossan… "_well, several. Instinct. Resolve. Good mentors. Luck. and fuck loads of sparring. Opponents to beat up as you both grow stronger" _and make out with…_ ichigo blushed slightly. _Damn panther making me figure out I'm bi.._ "A lot goes into it. What you obviously don't have is a good defense teacher. I don't care what side of this war you're going to be on. You're not evil, kid." Ichigo ignored Draco's indignant 'I'm fifteen!' and continued. "All of you guys have the same right to live."

The blonde stared at him, complex emotions dawning in his eyes. His mind was still fogged by years of being told one thing, but there was a spark of _something _forming within him as Ichigo's honest and charismatic words washed over him.

The teen had never quite realized how powerful his words and actions were, but it spoke leagues that the Vizards had declared themselves his allies - not the Seireitei's.

"I..I suppose so."

"Alright. Now lets get some dinner, shall we?"

Harry POV

The next day was cool and breezy, and as they walked down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, they felt the occasional drop of rain on their faces. Professor Grubbly-Plank stood waiting for the class some ten yards from Hagrid's front door, a long trestle table in front of her laden with twigs. As Harry and Ron reached her, a loud shout of laughter sounded behind them; turning, they saw Draco Malfoy striding towards them, surrounded by his usual gang of Slytherin cronies along with the new addition - Ichigo Kurosaki. Malfoy had clearly just said something highly amusing, because Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson and the rest continued to snigger heartily as they gathered around the trestle table and, judging by the way they all kept looking over at Harry, he was able to guess the subject of the joke without too much difficulty. Kurosaki had his hands in his pockets and was rolling his eyes heavily. Harry didn't know quite what to think of the transfer. He was abrasive, a Slytherin, and he hung out with Malfoy. But, at the same time, he had been understanding of Harry's plight, had stood up for him, didn't like Umbridge, and was their only shot at gaining battle experience.

"Everyone here?" barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, once all the Slytherins and Gryffindors had arrived. "Let's crack on then. Who can tell me what these things are called?"

She indicated the heap of twigs in front of her. Hermione's hand shot into the air. Behind her back, Malfoy did a buck-toothed imitation of her jumping up and down in eagerness to answer a question. Pansy Parkinson gave a shriek of laughter that turned almost at once into a scream, as the twigs on the table leapt into the air and revealed themselves to be what looked like tiny pixie-ish creatures made of wood, each with knobbly brown arms and legs, two twiglike fingers at the end of each hand and a funny flat, barklike face in which a pair of beetle-brown eyes glittered.

"Oooooh!" said Parvati and Lavender, thoroughly irritating Harry. They'd been shown highly more impressive creatures beforehand; it wasn't like Hagrid was a bad teacher.

"Kindly keep your voices down, girls!" said Professor Grubbly-Plank sharply, scattering a handful of what looked like brown rice among the stick-creatures, who immediately fell upon the food. "So–anyone know the names of these creatures?" her eyes seemed to land on Kurosaki, surprisingly. Harry winced. It was never fun to be signaled out on your first day of a class. "Mr. Kurosaki?"

"Bowtruckles" ichigo scratched his neck, "They're wand tree-guardians, if I remember correctly. You have to ask their permission for a branch to make a wand, right?"

"Ten points to Slytherin! My goodness, I didn't expect you to know so much, and as a transfer too!" Professor Grubbly-Plank enthused. " ahem, Yes, these are Bowtruckles, and as Mr Kurosaki rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?"

"Woodlice," said Hermione promptly, which explained why what Harry had taken to be grains of brown rice were moving. "But fairy eggs if they can get them."

"Good girl, take five points. So, whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a Bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of woodlice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will try to gouge at human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So if you'd like to gather closer, take a few woodlice and a Bowtruckle–I have enough here for one between three–you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body-parts labelled by the end of the lesson."

The class surged forwards around the trestle table. Harry deliberately circled around the back so that he ended up right next to Professor Grubbly-Plank.

"Where's Hagrid?" he asked her, while everyone else was choosing Bowtruckles.

"Never you mind," said Professor Grubbly-Plank repressively, which had been her attitude last time Hagrid had failed to turn up for a class, too. Smirking all over his pointed face, Draco Malfoy leaned across Harry and seized the largest Bowtruckle.

"Maybe," said Malfoy in an undertone, so that only Harry could hear him, "the stupid great oaf's got himself badly injured."

"Maybe you will if you don't shut up," said Harry out of the side of his mouth.

"Maybe he's been messing with stuff that's too big for him, if you get my drift."

"Maybe I'll punch you both if you don't stop riling up each other." Kurosaki leaned across the table, resting his chin. "How about that?"

Malfoy walked away, smirking over his shoulder at Harry, who felt suddenly sick. Did Malfoy know something? His father was a Death Eater after all; what if he had information about Hagrid's fate that had not yet reached the ears of the Order? He hurried back around the table to Ron and Hermione who were squatting on the grass some distance away and attempting to persuade a Bowtruckle to remain still long enough for them to draw it. Harry pulled out parchment and quill, crouched down beside the others and related in a whisper what Malfoy had just said.

He finished the class with a bloody hand - the bowtruckle hadn't liked him - and a half drawn bowtruckle diagram. _Oh well. I'll ask Hermione for help later. Maybe she'll have a picture of one in a book or something._

The door of the nearest greenhouse opened and some fourth-years spilled out of it, including Ginny.

"Hi," she said brightly as she passed. A few seconds later, Luna Lovegood emerged, trailing behind the rest of the class, a smudge of earth on her nose, and her hair tied in a knot on the top of her head. When she saw Harry, her prominent eyes seemed to bulge excitedly and she made a beeline straight for him. Many of his classmates turned curiously to watch. Luna took a great breath and then said, without so much as a preliminary hello, "I believe He Who Must Not Be Named is back and I believe you fought him and escaped from him."

'Er–right,' said Harry awkwardly. Luna was wearing what looked like a pair of orange radishes for earrings, a fact that Parvati and Lavender seemed to have noticed, as they were both giggling and pointing at her earlobes.

"You can laugh," Luna said, her voice rising, apparently under the impression that Parvati and Lavender were laughing at what she had said rather than what she was wearing, "but people used to believe there were no such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!"

"Or Yachiru, but it's hard to believe her existence even if you've met her."

_Huh?_

Ichigo smiled brightly at the girl. _He can smile? _

"Oh! Ichigo! You seem a bit brighter today! Well, darker, but brighter."

"I do?" a look strangely like hope crosses over his face.

She nodded. "Your aura. It was practically dead the other day. The edges look like they're healing now.

"They do?" he looked up towards the sky, his hand covering his eyes. "Thank you for telling me.. Luna. I feel almost like I'm high from all the ambient magic. Getaboushi said it would help." he chuckled. "Why did I ever doubt him? Can't trust him to not hide things from you, but I trust that man with the lives of my sisters."

"You're welcome! By the way, I saw a Jigokucho out the window today, so you might have a visitor or a message sometime soon."

"Well don't get my hopes up!" he laughed, though it sounded somewhat forced.

Luna smiled and flounced away, radishes swinging madly.

Harry and Malfoy shared a thoroughly confused look at the enigma that was the transfer student before shuddering at the idea that they had agreed with each other on anything.

"I still think he's a death eater." Harry decided, shrugging at Hermione.

"Shut up Harry."

At five to five Harry bade the other two goodbye and set off for Umbridge's office on the third floor. He met Kurosaki outside the door. The teen had been lounging against the wall, absentmindedly petting his cat. The black cat with gold eyes unnerved harry. Those eyes seemed far too intelligent for a mere cat. 'You ready?' he mouthed at him, and, upon receiving a nod in affirmation, knocked on the door.

"Come in!" the professor called in a cheery sugarsweet tone.

They entered cautiously, looking around.

Harry had known this office under three of its previous occupants.

In the days when Gilderoy Lockhart had lived here it had been plastered in beaming portraits of himself. When Lupin had occupied it, it was likely you would meet some fascinating Dark creature in a cage or tank if you came to call. In the impostor Moody's days it had been packed with various instruments and artefacts for the detection of wrongdoing and concealment.

Now, however, it looked totally unrecognisable. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each one residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolour kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. These were so foul that Harry stared at them, transfixed, until Professor Umbridge spoke again.

"Good evening, Mr Potter, Mr Kurosaki."

Harry started and looked around. He had not noticed her at first because she was wearing a luridly flowered set of robes that blended only too well with the tablecloth on the desk behind her. He noticed Ichigo stiffen besides him. The teen had left his cat outside of the door, but seemed noticeably more tense without her.

"Evening, Professor Umbridge," Harry said stiffly. Ichigo followed suit, scowl deep on his face.

"Well, sit down," she said, pointing towards a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up two straight-backed chairs. Pieces of blank parchment lay on the table, apparently waiting for them.

"Er," said Harry, without moving. "Professor Umbridge. Er–before we start, I–I wanted to ask you a . . . a favour."

Her bulging eyes narrowed.

"Oh, yes?"

"Well, I'm . . . I'm in the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts for the new Keeper at five o'clock on Friday and I was–was wondering whether I could skip detention that night and do it–do it another night . . . instead . . . "

He knew long before he reached the end of his sentence that it was no good.

"Oh, no," said Umbridge, smiling so widely that she looked as though she had just swallowed a particularly juicy fly. "Oh, no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one's convenience. No, you will come here at five o'clock tomorrow, and the next day, and on Friday too, and you will do your detentions as planned. I think it rather a good thing that you are missing something you really want to do. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you."

Harry felt the blood surge to his head and heard a thumping noise in his ears. So he told 'evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories', did he?

She was watching him with her head slightly to one side, still smiling widely, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking and was waiting to see whether he would start shouting again. With a massive effort, Harry looked away from her, dropped his schoolbag beside the straight-backed chair and sat down.

"There," said Umbridge sweetly, "we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Mr Potter. No, not with your quill," she added, as Harry bent down to open his bag. "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."

She handed him a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point.

"And me, Professor?" the title rolled off Kurosaki's lips like poison. "Can I use my pen? Its much more efficient for writing lines."

"Oh, no, Mr Kurosaki. You'll be using one of my quills as well."

His expression soured even more, if that was possible. _I don't believe i've ever met someone who scowls as much as he does._

"I want you, Mr Potter, to write I must not tell lies. And you, Mr Kurosaki, I want you to write I will obey my betters" she told him softly.

"How many times?" Harry asked, with a creditable imitation of politeness.

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," said Umbridge sweetly. "Off you go."

She moved over to her desk, sat down and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for marking. Harry raised the sharp black quill, then realised what was missing.

"There's no ink." Ichigo scowled. "See, this is why pens are better."

"Oh, you won't need ink," said Professor Umbridge, with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice.

Harry placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote: I must not tell lies.

He let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Harry's right hand, cut into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel – yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth.

He heard a slight and somewhat delayed hiss from Ichigo.

Harry looked round at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile.

'Yes?'

"Nothing," said Harry quietly.

He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill on it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time; once again, the words had been cut into his skin; once again, they healed over seconds later. He looked over at Ichigo. The teen was doing what he was told….well, technically. He was writing the lines such that they curled around his skin like an expertly done tattoo. _What…?_

'I needed someway to fight back' ichigo mouthed to him, head bent.

'ah.'

And on it went. Again and again Harry wrote the words on the parchment in what he soon came to realise was not ink, but his own blood. And, again and again, the words were cut into the back of his hand, healed, and reappeared the next time he set quill to parchment. The only sounds were the scratching of quill on parchment and the small, barely audible hisses from both boys. Harry grit his teeth. He didn't know how Kurosaki was staying so quiet. He wanted to scream.

Darkness fell outside Umbridge's window. Harry did not ask when he would be allowed to stop. He did not even check his watch. He knew she was watching him for signs of weakness and he was not going to show any, not even if he had to sit there all night, cutting open his own hand with this quill . . . It felt unfair. He hadn't done anything wrong! He was right! And Kurosaki, despite being a Slytherin, hadn't done anything either! Although he'd heard rumors of how cheeky the transfer student had been after he stormed out, so maybe the detention was merited.

"Come here," she said, after what seemed hours.

They stood up. His hand was stinging painfully. When he looked down at it he saw that the cut had healed, but that the skin there was red raw.

"Hand," she said.

He extended it. She took it in her own. Harry repressed a shudder as she touched him with her thick, stubby fingers on which she wore a number of ugly old rings.

"Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet," she said, smiling. "Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? Hand, Mr. Kurosaki."

He extended it, an almost numb expression on his face."

"What is this...Mr Kurosaki?" her voice was quiet and nauseating.

"You told us to write our lines. You didn't say how. So, I made them more visually pleasing."

She looked like she wanted to explode before she schooled her expression back into a sweet smile. "I see. Well, anyways it seems that the message hasn't cut very deep yet, now has it? You may leave, both of you."

Harry left her office without a word. The school was quite deserted; it was surely past midnight. He turned the corner and nearly screeched at the sight that greeted him. A young woman with plum coloured hair was streaking through the hall, quite literally. He covered his eyes quickly, not wanting to stare at her, um, shapely form.

"Ichigo! I smelled blood! All you alright?"

"I'm fine. You know, you're going to give yourself away like that, Yoruichi-san." _his cat?_

"Silly Ichigo. Cats don't talk." the words sounded like an inside joke. "I'm here with you for a reason." a pause. "Ichigo..you know Kisuke and I are worried about you-"

"Don't-"

"No. I'm talking." a small thunk was heard. "This is good for you. Being here. But you haven't been around people your age who've actually talked to you non-awkwardly in a year!"

"And who's fault is that!? It's not mine! FUCK!"

"Breathe. Talk to me. Why do I smell your blood?"

Harry opened his eyes as Ichigo extended his hand to the woman. She hissed. "I'm going to kill that woman. No. not kill her. I'll destroy her."

"It reminded me..he never did _that_, but this quill is definetly a torture instrument. And the words themselves...if I did that Yoruichi, I'd be dead. You know that. You taught me that."

She smiled in a proud and catlike grin. "Indeed I did. And you have exceeded our expectations." she ruffled his hair, "my favorite student!"

"I'm your only student!"

"Well I did torment Byakuya-bo when he was little, and my little bee was most definetly my pupil. How is Sui Feng doing?"

"You literally know better than me. Sui fon-taichou is terrifying. I get the impression that she doesn't like me especially because you're my sensei."

"Probably." she grinned. "Do talk to your acquaintance~ in the sixth. I'm sure he misses you with all that paperwork."

"Yoruichi-san!"

"What? You've grown too used to me being naked for me to tease you that way now, so I get to be creative!"

"How do you know about the phone?"

Harry found himself about 5 billion times more confused as Ichigo looked like he very well might murder the woman.

"GETABOUSHI!"


	17. Chapter 17

The next day held an exhausted ichigo nearly face planting into his highly unappealing bowl of porridge. Draco blinked at him helplessly. Waking the transfer up in the morning had only led to a face full of Ichigo's cat. He'd been in a sort of unresponsive mood, one that not even the most annoying of Slytherin could break him out of.

Malfoy shrugged and turned to Crabbe and Goyle. They didn't provide the most intelligent conversation, but they were loyal to a (many) fault(s). Honestly, the mood at the table was pretty normal. Which was why it was so utterly confusing when three Gryffindors appeared, snatched a rather bemused looking Ichigo out of his seat and kidnapped him to the other table.

"Wha-?" a berry dropped out of the Malfoy heir's mouth.

Harry grinned "Don't mind us Malfoy! None of your half-arsed business!"

"Uh…."

Crabbe and Goyle looked at him with just as much confusion. "Huh?"

"Exactly."

Ichigo POV

"What the fucking fuck?!" Ichigo glared at the golden trio.

"Hello Ichigo, sorry about that." Hermione smiled sweetly. "We have a few questions."

"So you decide to drag me away from breakfast?"

"Well you weren't really eating it…" Ron pointed out unhelpfully, "more like...dangling your head above it."

"Not my fault my kid sister's a better cook than this entire school."

Hermione looked highly affronted. "Excuse me?! The house elves work hard to make that food! They literally slave over it! Did I mention they aren't paid? Its horrific!"

"'Mione, Dumbledore does offer to pay them…"

"Oh do be quiet Ronald."

Harry rolled his eyes and plopped down on the bench. "So, Mr. transfer student, why does a naked lady have the same name as your cat?"

_FUCKING HELL YORUICHIiiiiiiii_

Ichigo facepalmed. "That's because she is my cat."

The lone girl of the group looked scandalized. "A girl sleeps in your room?"

"Not like that!" he screeched, "don't let her fool you. She's very taken. I mean Getaboushi is not that possessive of a man because they are both over-flirtatious messes, but just..ew."

Harry blinked. "Then why was she naked?"

The former-substitute-shinigami sighed a long suffering sigh. "The way she explained it to me: cats don't wear clothes. I thought she was a cat. For months. A talking cat, but a cat nonetheless. Think a very very odd animagus. Its something passed down in her family. She goes around as a cat most of the time, so she really doesn't care. She also has way too much fun trying to make all of us blush."

"I bet…" Ron blushed.

Ichigo internally growled. He was highly protective of his mentors, despite his knowledge that they could kick anybody's asses. "Anyways. She's one of the teachers at Shinhana and came along to make sure Hogwarts was treating me well. Also because she loves trolling people. And was getting bored. Trust me. A bored Lady Shihouin is terrifying."

"But why did she come along?" hermione propped her head on her hand. "Doesn't she need to teach?"

Ichigo shook his head. He was still bitter at Soul Society's exiling of them. Not like the Gotei had done any better by him. _Well ...it wasn't everybody's fault. Funnily enough, Byakuya's the only one who seems to care.. _"Her first pupil took over. Professor Soi Fon, teacher of Class Two."

"Oh! So how does that work? Aren't professors not allowed to pick favorites?" hermione practically oozed her desire for information.

"Not exactly…. So there are thirteen main classes that everybody takes over the year. Each of those teachers has a student under them that is a uh…. How would you translate this… teacher's assistant? And the thirteen main teachers each sort of have a house. I guess… heads of that house? Where you go is decided after year two. The professors request you and you request them and you get matched. Now, if a professor or teacher's assistant thinks you deserve their attention, they might take you under their wing." he blushed. "I somehow got GetaBoushi and Yoruichi-san. Rukia has Professor Ukitake." _it is so weird referring to them as professor instead of captain...i sure hope I can remember this…_

"So, who's your Dumbledore?" Harry asked. He still felt that something was off with Ichigo, but his explanation was so thorough…

"Yamamoto-Soutaichou. His honorific means head Captain, and since we're a more militaristic school, that's our title for our headmaster. Also, the houses; your professor is who you fight under if we go to war."

"Like the one you just had…."

"Yeah ...that.." Ichigo winced. There was no way he could tell them how high up he was. Plus even discussing it brought back bad memories. "I sure hope Grimm and Nel are doing okay…" he whispered.

"Hm?"

"Oh nothing."

Hermione peered at him, her bushy hair tied back into a ponytail for once. "So which house are you in?"

The strawberry almost gaped. _Oh shittttt. Well Shinji did teach me…. I could say fifth? But thats Aizen's… I know Kyouraku and Kenpachi would be happy to have me… But Byakuya has been standing up for me… hm. I spent the most time with the eleventh, so, yeah. Lets go with that. _"I'm in the eleventh." He stated proudly. "We're all pretty insane and don't care what people think. Professor Kenpachi is terrifying and actually enjoys dueling with a passion. And fighting in general. The rest of the school.. They try to stay away from our wing." he chuckled. "Renji and Bya- sorry, _Professor_ Kuchiki are the sixth. Ikkaku and Yumichika are with me. And they always invade my room. Always. Every. Single. Time. so does Rukia! And Rangiku! And they're from the 13th and the 10th!" he sweatdropped, trying to not grow melancholy at the fact that they no longer did so. "We have rules. We all just ignore them. When Yoruichi-san and GetaBoushi were at the academy they created a secret basement and practically destroyed the curriculum. I stormed through the school to get my friend from almost being expelled. Fun times."

He could tell that they were bemused, and he smirked.

Harry nodded. He had no idea how a school like that even functioned, but it apparently did, so he let it fly. "So the cat is actually your mentor?"

"Yes!" _how many times do I have to explain this? Would a diagram be easier? Wow. _"now! I've answered your questions. Will you _please_ let me go eat breakfast and text my bo- my friend?"

Hermione raised a finger. "One more question. How do you text at Hogwarts?"

Ichigo swore, right then, that if he lost his shit and destroyed the castle, it was definitely _not_ his fault.


	18. Chapter 18

Ichigo sat restlessly at his seat in Charms. It was disconcerting being taught by someone _that_ much shorter than him but, he knew better than to be fooled by the Professor's height. According to Greengrass, Flitwick had been a dueling champion in his youth. A part of him desired to ask the professor if his height was natural or a result of a spell, but decided against it.

They were learning _Silencio,_ the silencing charm.

_Could be used to shut someone up_ He mused quietly, _useful._

But despite the usefulness of the spell, the transfer student still dreaded learning it. He didn't like being kept quiet.

"Uh, Ichigo?" a quiet Ravenclaw student by the name of Avy Silverman poked his arm gently, causing him to jump.

"Huh? Oh, hi."

"Would you be my practice partner today?" Xe asked, a little nervously.

"Yeah, of course." Ichigo was puzzled. _I'm not that intimidating..am I?_ He suddenly remembered Tatsuki's teasing about his perpetual scowl and facepalmed. "Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for!" waving a hand in a scarily Urahara-like gesture, xe smiled at him. "I'm sorry for poking you. Professor Flitwick told us to get started and you were zoning out."

"Oh! I was?" he scowled at himself. "I'll do better. Alright Avy. Let's get to work."

Avy nodded, stood, and stretched xer wand arm out. "We've got this. _Silencio!"_

Ichigo almost gasped as he felt the magic hit him. As always, it was like a drug quality shock to his system, but he could just _feel_ it restricting his voice. 'Drop the Spell! It works!' he tried to tell xem, but no sound came out.

"Did it work?"

He nodded. _I feel like I'm suffocating. Please drop the spell._

"Okay. great. You cast it at me?"

'I. Can't. Speak.' he mouthed, eyes closed. The ex-substitute-shinigami didn't know why he was closing his eyes, but his subconscious did. His instinct. Self preservation. Eyes.

"Oh. right. _Finite Incantatem."_

"Well. It worked." Ichigo kept his eyes closed trying to calm his pulse. _It's official. I hate PTSD._

Xe nodded excitedly. "Now I can shut up all the idiots up when I'm trying to read!"

"Yeah. Sounds great. _Silencio._"

Avy gaped at him, probably wondering how he turned around to fire the spell so quickly. He smirked. "Does it work?"

Nodding, xe gave him a thumbs up.

"_Finite Incantatem." _Ichigo ended the spell and offered a hand to Xem. "Feeling alright?"

"Yeah. Just a little out of breath. I wonder if that's what it feels like to be mute? My girlfriend is. She signs or writes all of her spells. And if this charm exists, why has nobody made the opposite? That would be so helpful."

He smiled at xer curiosity. "You could do that for your seventh year project then."

Xe brighted. "You're right! Thank you Ichigo!"

"Its Kurosaki…"

Xe gave him a hug. "Professor! Ichigo and I both got it to work on our first try!"

Flitwick glanced over. "Stupendous! 10 points to Slytherin and Ravenclaw for a job well done!"

Avy grinned and ran a hand through their hair. "Say Ichigo, you're a good guy. Are you dating anyone? Cause I could always set you up."

"Wha-what? No, no you don't have to do that!" he turned as red as his (not actual) namesake. "No, I have a, person, I mean I'm not, I'M SINGLE! Oh kami I just yelled that to the whole world…" he slammed his burning face into his desk. "But taken. Let's just say I'm taken."

Nodding sagely, Avy chuckled. "I see. I know gay panic when I see it."

"Who said I was gay?"

"You just confirmed it."

Ichigo sighed in resignation. "Bi. Bi panic. Get your facts right."

And thus ended Charms class.

It had been one week since classes started, and already there seemed to be drama. Ichigo strode into the Slytherin common room, fully ready to flop on a sofa before the next class, when he noticed nearly the entire house crowding around a poster on the wall.

"Huh?"

He pushed through the crowd to get a look. "Educational Degree 23…. Dolores Umbridge declared Hogwarts High Inquisitor? What…?"

Malfoy appeared at his shoulder. "Father didn't tell me about this. It's purely the Ministry's doings."

"Drake! Did you see this?" Pansy ran at them. "She'll be inspecting all the teachers!"

"Well good. Maybe we can get some of them fired. Like that oaf Hagrid."

"Wait, Malfoy." Ichigo mused for a second before speaking. "She wouldn't just fire him. Didn't you say she's racist?"

"Oh bugger." Pansy cursed, sticking her nose up at it. "It's one think to be blood-purist. It's entirely another to hate people because of race. Blood-purism is just thinking we're better than everyone. Racism is hating everybody else."

"Unless you're the Dark Lord," Draco reminded her. "He kills because of blood-purism."

"Oh true. Well my point is that's human matters. Species are different. We're not the smartest species out there and that's fact."

"Whales." Blaise added sagely, a sentiment echoed by the other two.

Ichigo chuckled. "Alright, but what do we do about Umbitch?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, pulling Ichigo and the others to the couch. "We get on her good side. Obviously. I'm afraid it's a bit late for Kurosaki, but we can turn on the charm. Won't know what hit her."

The entire group smirked, sly gleams of excitement in their eyes. Ichigo leaned over on his elbows, a dark side of him reveling in the chaos of the Slytherin house. "Sounds like a plan." Bits of black bled into one eye, barely noticed by the others. They noted it and put it away as one of the quirks of their new housemate.

"Who do you think she'll go after first?" Pansy asked Malfoy, running a hand through her hair.

"Oh, I don't know. It'll be frankly ridiculous when she confronts Professor Snape. He'll destroy her."

Ichigo chuckled. "And can you imagine McGonagall-Sensei? She'll annoy the toad to bits."

The four shared looks of mischief oddly similar to four Gryffindors a couple decades earlier. "I'll keep Father updated. This should be wonderful."


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione POV

Sadly, the day didn't get off to the most exciting start. Dumbridge wasn't present in the potions classroom, but dread was definitely there. Not because of the toadlike woman, but because of a much more universal fear: getting graded homework back.

"I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your OWL," Snape smirked, disappointment, resignation, and delight playing across his face as he handed back their homework. His eyes swept dramatically across the room. "This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in the examination."

Snape reached the front of the class and turned on his heel to face them.

"The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Had this been your examination, only a handful of you would have passed." Hermione bounced in her seat a little. She hadn't yet looked at her paper, but she expected she didn't do horribly. "I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who get a "D"."

He smirked as Malfoy sniggered and said in a carrying whisper, "Some people got a "D"? Ha!"

"Is that bad?" Hermione heard the red-headed transfer student ask him.

"Oh yes. Only one grade worse, but it's still a failing grade."

"Ah." Kurosaki shrugged, still looking confused. "Is an A bad?" he asked, cringing a little when he saw Hermione staring.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Yes, you dolt. Not amazing, but passable."

Hermione looked sidewards towards Harry to see what he got. However, he slid the essay back into his bag before she got a peek. _Come on! It can't be that bad._ She huffed in frustration but left him alone. Her friend was reading the board in what seemed like uncharacteristic concentration and she had the urge to poke him with her quill. She didn't, of course. Harry barely ever truly focused on potions, and she was definitely not going to be the one to stop him. His Strengthening Solution was not precisely the clear turquoise shade of Hermione's but it was at least blue rather than pink, like Neville's, and she breathed a sigh of relief. _At least he won't get detention for this._

"Well, that wasn't as bad as last week, was it?"Hermione stated, smiling gently as they climbed the steps out of the dungeon and made their way across the Entrance Hall towards lunch. "And the homework didn't go too badly, either, did it?"

When neither Ron nor Harry answered, she pressed on, "I mean, all right, I didn't expect the top grade, not if he's marking to OWL standard, but a pass is quite encouraging at this stage, wouldn't you say?"

Harry made a non-committal noise in his throat.

"Of course, a lot can happen between now and the exam, we've got plenty of time to improve, but the grades we're getting now are a sort of baseline, aren't they? Something we can build on . . . "

They sat down together at the Gryffindor table. Hermione continued talking, quite purposefully ignoring the boys' silence.

"Obviously, I'd have been thrilled if I'd got an "O"– "

"Hermione," Ron's voice was sharp. "If you want to know what grades we got, ask."

"I don't–I didn't mean–well, if you want to tell me–" She sighed, trying to backtrack.

"I got a "P"," Ron spat out, ladling soup into his bowl. "Happy?"

"Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of," said Fred, who had just arrived at the table with George and Lee Jordan and was sitting down on Harry's right. "Nothing wrong with a good healthy "P"."

"But," said Hermione, "doesn't "P" stand for.."

""Poor", yeah," said Lee Jordan. "Still, better than "D", isn't it? "Dreadful"?"

Hermione noticed Harry's face flush and wince. _Oh._ "So top grade's "O" for "Outstanding"," she continued, trying to draw attention off of him, "and then there's "A"–"

"No, "E"," George corrected her, ""E" for "Exceeds Expectations". And I've always thought Fred and I should've got "E" in everything, because we exceeded expectations just by turning up for the exams."

They all laughed except Hermione, who ploughed on, 'So, after "E" it's "A" for "Acceptable", and that's the last pass grade, isn't it?"

"Yep," said Fred, dunking an entire roll in his soup, transferring it to his mouth and swallowing it whole. (which made the girl of the group cringe.)

"Kurosaki got an A." she said matter-o-factlly.

"Lucky bugger." George nodded his head. "Knew he'd do well in potions. Only been in class a week too."

"Then you get "P" for "Poor"–"

"Yeet." Ron interjected.

Fred continued, –'and "D" for "Dreadful".

"And then "T"," George reminded him.

""T"?" asked Hermione, thoroughly appalled at even the sound of the grade. She couldn't even think of what it could possibly stand for! "Even lower than a "D"? What on earth does "T" stand for?"

""Troll"," said George promptly.

Harry laughed, even as Hermione stared at the twins in horror.

"Troll? What in Merlin's Pants?"

"No, there're no trolls in those." George snickered.

She blushed. "That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"Yeah yeah. You lot had an inspected lesson yet?" Fred asked them.

"No," she responded automatically, "Have you?"

"Just now, before lunch," said George. "Charms."

"What was it like?" Harry and Hermione asked together. The witch leaned forward on her forearms, her interest palpable.

Fred shrugged. "Not that bad. Umbridge just lurked in the corner making notes on a clipboard. You know what Flitwick's like, he treated her like a guest, didn't seem to bother him at all. She didn't say much. Asked Alicia a couple of questions about what the classes are normally like, Alicia told her they were really good, that was it."

"I can't see old Flitwick getting marked down," said George, "he usually gets everyone through their exams all right."

"But what if she doesn't like his height?" Hermione stressed, "Could she mark him down for that?"

"Who've you got this afternoon?" Fred asked Harry.

"Trelawney–"

"A "T" if ever I saw one."

Hermione huffed in agreement, very glad of her decision to drop the class.

"–and Umbridge herself."

"Well, be a good boy and keep your temper with Umbridge today," said George. "Angelina'll do her nut if you miss any more Quidditch practices."

"She'll kill me" he groaned, and both Ron and Hermione pat his back sympathetically.

Ichigo POV

Unbearable-bridge was humming and smiling to herself when they entered the room. Ichigo vaugely overheard Harry and Ron regaling Hermione about exactly what had happened in Divination (which he found a bit ridiculous, at least in the forms he'd been told about) while they all took out their copies of Defensive Magical Theory.

Ichigo took his seat with a sigh. He was sandwiched between The-Boy-Who-Lived and Draco, which was definitely not the most comfortable position.

"Wands away," Umbridge instructed them all with a smile, crushing the hopes of all the idealists in the room, "As we finished Chapter One last lesson, I would like you all to turn to page nineteen today and commence "Chapter Two, Common Defensive Theories and their Derivation". There will be no need to talk. "Still smiling her wide, self-satisfied smile, she sat down at her desk. The class gave an audible sigh as it turned, as one, to page nineteen.

Ichigo rolled his eyes, bouncing his leg up and down below the desk. To be honest, the book wasn't the driest he'd read for school, but it was a _magic _book. At a _magic _school. It should certainly be less dry than it was, which was to say, less dry than a completely evaporated ocean. He almost prostrated himself at Hermione's feet when he saw her hand in the air, trusting that she'd break the terrible monotony.

Professor Umbridge also noticed, apparently, and what was more, she seemed to have worked out a strategy for just such an eventuality. Instead of trying to pretend she hadn't noticed Hermione, she got to her feet and walked around the front row of desks until they were face to face, then she bent down and whispered, so that the rest of the class could not hear, "What is it this time, Miss Granger?"

"I've already read Chapter Two,"said Hermione.

_Well fuck in a bucket. It's about the book. I'd honestly be grateful for some danger right now._

"Well then, proceed to Chapter Three."

"I've read that too. I've read the whole book."

Professor Umbridge blinked but recovered her poise almost instantly.

"Well, then, you should be able to tell me what Slinkhard says about counter-jinxes in Chapter Fifteen."

"He says that counter-jinxes are improperly named," said Hermione promptly. "He says "counter-jinx" is just a name people give their jinxes when they want to make them sound more acceptable."

_Huh? They're all spells. Just call them spells or categorize them based on what they do. Oh fuck… It's like Kido. I'll suck at controlling the spells power. Great. Just great. I'll end up blowing up the testing room at this rate. Also, this book is not thick enough for the whole year. Heh, thicc. Okay, focus._

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows and it was clear that she was impressed, although obviously against her will.

"But I disagree," Hermione continued.

Professor Umbridge's eyebrows rose a little higher and her gaze became distinctly colder.

"You disagree?" she repeated.

"Yes, I do," said Hermione, who, unlike Umbridge, was not whispering, but speaking in a clear, carrying voice that had by now attracted the attention of the rest of the class. "Mr. Slinkhard doesn't like jinxes, does he? But I think they can be very useful when they're used defensively."

"Oh, you do, do you?" said Professor Umbridge, forgetting to whisper and straightening up. "Well, I'm afraid it is Mr. Slinkhard's opinion, and not yours, that matters within this classroom, Miss Granger."

"But–" Hermione began.

"That is enough," said Professor Umbridge. She walked back to the front of the class and stood before them, all the jauntiness she had shown at the beginning of the lesson gone. "Miss Granger, I am going to take five points from Gryffindor house."

There was an outbreak of muttering at this.

"With all do respect," _which is none, _"Professor, but debating topics can be healthy for a class. Maybe you'd like to share your perspective on Jinxes, I mean, as a member of the Ministry, I'm sure you have loads of experience and wisdom to share with us." Ichigo spoke up, venom oozing from his voice (although the toad didn't seem to notice it).

"Oh, well…." she paused, "Perhaps another time, Mr Kurosaki, but in this classroom, you do not get to decide what would be healthy for the classroom."

He rolled his eyes.

"I agree with Kurosaki." Malfoy drawled. _Thank you! Finally! Se, I knew you weren't always an idiot._

"I'm sure you do, Mr Malfoy," she said, her voice much sweeter than before. Ichigo saw Malfoy shudder. "But that will not be happening in this class. Now, I'm taking those points away, Ms Granger."

_Whoop. Dictatorship. How fun._

"What for?" Harry's fists clenched against the desk.

"Don't you get involved!" Hermione whispered urgently to him.

"For disrupting my class with pointless interruptions," Professor Umbridge answered smoothly. "I am here to teach you using a Ministry-approved method that does not include inviting students to give their opinions on matters about which they understand very little. Your previous teachers in this subject may have allowed you more agency but as none of them–with the possible exception of Professor Quirrell, who did at least appear to have restricted himself to age-appropriate subjects–would have passed a Ministry inspection–"

"Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher," said Harry loudly, "there was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head."

This pronouncement was followed by one of the loudest silences Harry had ever heard. Then–

"I think another week's detentions would do you some good, Mr. Potter," said Umbridge sleekly.

Ichigo facepalmed, the sharp sound resounding through the silent room.

When the Slytherin Quartet entered Transfiguration, Ichigo's face lit up with manic glee. Professor Umbridge and her clipboard were sitting in a corner and the sight of her drove the memory of breakfast right out of his head.

" Excellent," Pansy just barely hid her smirk as she applied a fresh coat of lipgloss to her lips. It was an odd habit of her's, and Ichigo couldn't figure out if it was her trying to draw Draco's attention, or if it was just a habit.

Professor McGonagall marched into the room without giving the slightest indication that she knew Professor Umbridge was there.

"That will do," she said and silence fell immediately. "Mr. Zabini, kindly come here and hand back the homework–Miss Everglow, please take this box of mice–don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you–and hand one to each student–"

"Hem, hem," said Professor Umbridge, employing the same silly little cough she had used to interrupt Dumbledore on the first night of term. Professor McGonagall ignored her.

Malfoy had a small pleased smirk on his face. While he hated Gryffindor, he still respected it's head. (as all semi-sane individuals should)

"Right then, everyone, listen closely– Mr Crabbe, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention–most of you have now successfully Vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have got the gist of the spell. Today, we shall be–"

"Hem, hem,"

"Yes?" McGonagall turned around, her eyebrows so close together they seemed to form one long, severe line. Ichgio was unpleasantly reminded of Captains' meetings. Of course, that train of thought led him to a certain someone and he shook his head, attempting to get any similar trains of thought out of his mind.

"I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec–"

"Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom," said Professor McGonagall, turning her back firmly on Professor Umbridge. _Oh my goodness she's a badass. Not surprising. All the women I know are. _Several of the students exchanged looks of glee. "As I was saying: today, we shall be practising the altogether more difficult Vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell–"

"Hem, hem."

"I wonder," Professor McGonagall seethed in cold fury, turning on Professor Umbridge, "how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking."

Professor Umbridge looked as though she had just been slapped in the face. She did not speak, but straightened the parchment on her clipboard and began scribbling furiously.

Looking supremely unconcerned, Professor McGonagall addressed the class once more.

"As I was saying: the Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult with the complexity of the animal to be Vanished. The snail, as an invertebrate, does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammal, offers a much greater one. This is not, therefore, magic you can accomplish with your mind on your dinner. So– you know the incantation, let me see what you can do . . . "

"I think I'm in love." Pansy stated. "Very platonic childlike love."

Malfoy nodded. "I almost wish she was a Slytherin instead of a Gryffindor."

"She's one of us now." Blaise added, "we'll still be arseholes to her students though."

"As long as you aren't stupid and make me beat ya up." Ichigo reminded them.

"Right."

Professor Umbridge did not follow Professor McGonagall around the class as she had followed Professor Trelawney; perhaps she realised Professor McGonagall would not permit it. She did, however, take many more notes while sitting in her corner, and when Professor McGonagall finally told them all to pack away, she rose with a grim expression on her face.

"Well, it's a start," the former substitute shinigami sighed, holding up a rather large (and slightly singed) flat mouse and dropping it back into the box Lavender was passing around.

As they filed out of the classroom, the Strawberry saw Professor Umbndge approach the teacher's desk; he elbowed Malfoy hard in the stomach, who in turn tapped Pansy's shoulder, who poked Blaise's cheek, and the four of them deliberately fell back to skulk around the area.

"How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" Professor Umbridge asked.

"Thirty-nine years this December," said Professor McGonagall brusquely, snapping her bag shut.

Professor Umbridge made a note.

"Very well," she said, "you will receive the results of your inspection in ten days' time."

"I can hardly wait," McGonagall deadpanned and she strode off towards the door. "Hurry up, you four, before I give you detention." she added sternly, sweeping them before her. Ichigo smiled brightly at her.

Unluckily for Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Hagrid, Umbridge's visiting his currently-substitute-led class didn't go very well for him.

Ichigo ended up punching both Goyle and Malfoy (gently) in the stomach, highly irritated at their bigoted view of their teacher.

"If someone speaks with an accent, a speech affect, or a lisp, it doesn't make them unintelligent." He reprimanded them sharply. "It's not Professor Hagrid's fault that he was born a half giant, and you must remember that. And that doesn't really matter much. He has magic, He's a half blood by your definition, and he has as much right to be at Hogwarts as anyone else. Didn't you tell me he was expelled under false charges?"

Malfoy nodded. "Yeah.. He was accused of something the dark lord did while at Hogwarts."

"Exactly. So stop it. Appearances can be deceiving and it's possible he's more powerful and intelligent than he seems to you. I haven't even met the man and I can tell you that. Sometimes those who aren't actually human have the most human qualities of us all."

That had stunned the Slytherins into silence as they evaluated their life choices.

Ichigo sighed. "I know it'll take longer than a week to destroy your biases, but I'll work on it."

Besides him, fully invisible to the young man, a black and white clad figure gazed at him proudly, pressing a phantom kiss to his cheek.

"You're getting stronger….Ichigo...I'm proud of you." _if only the elders could hear you...they'd change their tune in an instant…._


	20. Chapter 20

I do not own Harry Potter/ Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Those belong to J.K Rowling and Tite Kubo respectively.

Harry

Harry poked his head into the library, raising an eyebrow as he saw a curled up lump of transfer student on of the sofas. The red head's cat (_teacher?_) was settled in his lap, absentmindedly being petted by the studying teen.

"Uh, should we come back later?" He inquired of Hermione (who had poked her head in under Harry's).

"No. We'll just continue without him."

Harry blanched. Hermione and Ron had sprung this teaching idea thing upon him with barely any warning, and, while he was passionate about it, he had really hoped that Ichigo would be able to help. The teen had, after all, been through a war already. "But Hermione-"

"We'll be fine. Come on! And he's a Slytherin."

"She's got a point mate." Ron added, nodding sagely.

Ichigo flipped a page in the book he was reading, the rustling sound causing all three members of the golden trio to jump.

"So does my elbow." Harry deadpanned, jabbing it into his friend's side teasingly.

"Oi! Harry!"

He grinned. "Fine. We'll leave him be and enlist him to help if we need. How many people are coming anyways?"

"Oh, not that many." Hermione answered nonchalantly. "I've told them to meet us at the Hogshead when we go to Hog'smead this weekend. I do hope they'll all show up."

Now, this answer of course did nothing to help Harry's nerves. He'd noticed quite quickly that Hermione _didn't_ say how many people were coming. Just that they were. This could of course be seen as momentary forgetfulness on the girl's part, but Harry knew her well enough to know that it couldn't be so.

"I see.." He let a strained grin onto his face, somewhat dreading the first weekend of October.

The morning of the Hogsmeade visit dawned bright but windy. Alter breakfast they queued up in front of Filch, who matched their names to the long list of students who had permission from their parents or guardian to visit the village. With a slight pang, Harry remembered that if it hadn't been for Sirius, he would not have been going at all.

They walked down the main street past Zonko's Wizarding Joke Shop, where they were not surprised to see Fred, George and Lee Jordan, past the post office, from which owls issued at regular intervals, and turned up a side-street at the top of which stood a small inn. A battered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture on it of a wild boar's severed head, leaking blood on to the white cloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as they approached. All three of them hesitated outside the door.

"Well, come on," said Hermione, slightly nervously. Harry led the way inside.

The bar couldn't have been more different than the Three Broomsticks, except, of course, for the fact that it _was_ a bar. That's where the similarities ended. The place was shabby, and a thin film of dust clung to the stone tiles that made up the floor. A lone barkeep was polishing glasses, shooting the three teens a Look of some sort. It made Harry a little apprehensive. The chairs were worn wood, seemingly having sen much use throughout the years. In fact, nothing about the place seemed new. It was..it was old, Harry decided. _Old, but it will do._

Harry remembered Hagrid mentioning this pub in his first year: "Yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head," he had said, explaining how he had won a dragon's egg from a hooded stranger there. At the time Harry had wondered why Hagrid had not found it odd that the stranger kept his face hidden throughout their encounter; now he saw that keeping your face hidden was something of a fashion in the Hog's Head. There was a man at the bar whose whole head was wrapped in dirty grey bandages, though he was still managing to gulp endless glasses of some smoking, fiery substance through a slit over his mouth; two figures shrouded in hoods sat at a table in one of the windows; Harry might have thought them dementors if they had not been talking in strong Yorkshire accents, and in a shadowy corner beside the fireplace sat a witch with a thick, black veil that fell to her toes. They could just see the tip of her nose because it caused the veil to protrude slightly. A man with long dark hair sat in a corner, hood covering all features but a few wisps of hair. On his shoulder rested another fellow, draped in a throw blanket.

"I don't know about this, Hermione," Harry muttered, as they crossed to the bar. He was looking particularly at the heavily veiled witch. "Has it occurred to you Umbridge might be under that?"

Hermione cast an appraising eye over the veiled figure.

"Umbridge is shorter than that woman," she whispered. "And anyway, even if Umbridge does come in here there's nothing she can do to stop us, Harry, because I've double- and triple-checked the school rules. We're not out of bounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and he said yes, but he advised me strongly to bring our own glasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of about study groups and homework groups and they're definitely allowed. I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade what we're doing."

"No," said Harry drily, "especially as it's not exactly a homework group you're planning, is it?"

The barkeep sidled towards them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long grey hair and beard. He was tall and thin and looked vaguely familiar to Harry.

"What?" he grunted. The need for pleasantries was apparently lost on him.

"Three Butterbeers, please," said Hermione.

The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up three very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar. "Six Sickles."

"I'll get them," said Harry quickly, passing over the silver. The barman's eyes travelled over Harry, resting for a fraction of a second on his scar. Then he turned away and deposited Harry's money in an ancient wooden till whose drawer slid open automatically to receive it. Harry, Ron and Hermione retreated to the furthest table from the bar and sat down, looking around. The man in the dirty grey bandages rapped the counter with his knuckles and received another smoking drink from the barman. After delivering that drink, he brought two firewhiskeys to the men in the corner.

"You know what?" Ron murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked in here. I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try Firewhisky–"

"You–are–a–prefect," snarled Hermione.

There was a slight sound of snorted laughter from the corner.

"Oh," said Ron, the smile fading from his face. "Yeah . . . "

"So, who when is everyone meeting us?" Harry asked, wrenching open the rusty top of his Butterbeer and taking a swig.

"I told them to be here about now and I'm sure they all know where it is–oh, look, this might be them now." Hermione motioned towards the entrance with her head.

The door of the pub had opened. A thick band of dusty sunlight split the room in two for a moment and then vanished, blocked by the incoming rush of a crowd of people.

First came Neville with Dean and Lavender, who were closely followed by Parvati and Padma Patil with (Harry's stomach did a back-flip) Cho and one of her usually-giggling friends, then (on her own and looking so dreamy she might have walked in by accident) Luna Lovegood; then Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson, Colin and Dennis Creevey Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff girl with a long plait clown her back whose name Harry did not know; three Ravenclaw boys he was pretty sure were called Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner and Terry Boot, Ginny, closely followed by a tall skinny blond boy with an upturned nose whom Harry recognised vaguely as being a member of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and, bringing up the rear, Fred and George Weasley with their friend Lee Jordan, all three of whom were carrying large paper bags crammed with Zonko's merchandise.

"A couple of people?" said Harry hoarsely to Hermione. "A couple of people? I knew something was off when you didn't say the exact amount."

"Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," said Hermione happily. "Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?"

The barman had frozen in the act of wiping out a glass with a rag so filthy it looked as though it had never been washed. Possibly, he had never seen his pub so full.

"Hi," said Fred, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly, "could we have . . . twenty-five Butterbeers, please?"

The barman glared at him for a moment, then, throwing down his rag irritably as though he had been interrupted in something very important, he started passing up dusty Butterbeers from under the bar.

"Cheers," said Fred, handing them out. "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these . . . "

Harry watched numbly as the large chattering group took their beers from Fred and rummaged in their robes to find coins. He could not imagine what all these people had turned up for until the horrible thought occurred to him that they might be expecting some kind of speech, at which he rounded on Hermione.

"Hi, Harry," said Neville, beaming and taking a seat opposite him.

Harry tried to smile back, Neville's presence was calming. Cho had just smiled at him and sat down on Ron's right. Her presence, on the other hand, was anything but. Her friend, who had curly reddish-blonde hair, did not smile, but gave Harry a thoroughly mistrustful look which plainly told him that, given her way, she wouldn't be here at all.

In twos and threes the new arrivals settled around Harry, Ron and Hermione, some looking rather excited, others curious, Luna Lovegood gazing dreamily into space. When everybody had pulled up a chair, the chatter died out. Every eye was upon Harry.

"Er," said Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves. "Well–er–hi."

The group focused its attention on her instead, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.

"Well . . . erm . . . well, you know why you're here. Erm . . . well, Harry here had the idea–I mean" (Harry threw her a sharp look) "I had the idea–that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defence Against the Dark Arts–and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us– "(Hermione's voice became suddenly much stronger and more confident) "– because nobody could call that Defence Against the Dark Arts–" ("Hear, hear," said Anthony Goldstein (the lone Jewish student at the school), and Hermione looked heartened) "–Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands."

She paused, looked sideways at Harry and went on, "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory but doing the real spells–"

"You want to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL too, though, I bet?" Michael interjected.

"Of course I do," said Hermione at once. 'But more than that, I want to be properly trained in defence because . . . because . . . " she took a great breath and finished, "because Lord Voldemort is back."

The reaction was immediate and predictable. So predictable in fact that Harry almost rolled his eyes. Cho's friend shrieked and slopped Butterbeer down herself; Terry Boot gave a kind of involuntary twitch; Padma Patil shuddered, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough. All of them, however, looked fixedly, even eagerly, at Harry.

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" said the blond Hufflepuff player in a rather aggressive voice.

"Who are you?" said Ron, rather rudely.

"Zacharias Smith," said the boy, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"Look," said Hermione, intervening swiftly, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about–"

"It's OK, Hermione," Harry sighed. It had just dawned on him why there were so many people there. He thought Hermione should have seen this coming. Some of these people–maybe even most of them–had turned up in the hopes of hearing Harry's story firsthand. They didn't know everything that had happened. They'd just heard about it. But they also knew him from school and thought him really the same as the rest of them. Sides from, ya know, the whole being The-Boy-Who-Lived thing. "What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" he repeated, looking Zacharias straight in the face. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

The whole group seemed to have held its breath while Harry spoke. Harry had the impression that even the barman was listening. He was wiping the same glass with the filthy rag, making it steadily dirtier. The men cuddling in the corner seemed to raise their heads in interest.

"All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know–"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry snapped. His temper, always so close to the surface these days, was rising again. Luna had likened him to a puff ball of anger, and he really couldn't help but agree. He pointedly kept his eyes on Zacharias Smith's aggressive face, determined not to look at Cho. Talking about his sorta-crush's dead boyfriend was awkward enough as it was. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

He cast an angry look in Hermione's direction. This was, he felt, all her fault; she had decided to display him like some sort of freak and of course they had all turned up to see just now wild his story was. But none of them left their seats, not even Zacharias Smith, though he continued to gaze intently at Harry.

"Is it true," a girl with long braided hair broke the silence, looking directly at Harry, "that you can produce a Patronus?"

"Uh, yes?"

"A corporeal Patronus?"

The phrase stirred something in Harry's memory. "Er–you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" he asked.

The girl smiled "She's my auntie," she said. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So–is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yep."

This set off a whole round of mumbling yet again.

"And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year . . . "

"Er–yeah, I did, yeah," said Harry.

Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled; the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks and Lavender Brown said 'Wow!' softly. Harry was feeling slightly hot around the collar now; he was determinedly looking anywhere but at Cho.

"And in our first year," said Neville to the group at large, "he saved that Philological Stone– "

"Philosopher's," hissed Hermione.

"Yes, that–from You-Know-Who," finished Neville.

Hannah Abbotts eyes were as round as Galleons.

"And that's not to mention," said Cho (Harry's eyes snapped across to her; she was looking at him, smiling; his stomach did another somersault) "all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year–getting past dragons and merpeople and Acromantula and things . . ."

There was a murmur of impressed agreement around the table. Harry's insides were squirming. He was trying to arrange his face so that he did not look too pleased with himself. The fact that Cho had just praised him made it much, much harder for him to say the thing he had sworn to himself he would tell them. He looked around the room. The veiled witch looked like she was trying to be inconspicuous, and he almost blushed when he saw how close the two men in the corner were to each other.

"Look," he said, and everyone fell silent at once, "I . . . I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but . . . I had a lot of help with all that stuff . . . no, OK, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is–"

"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily, moving on . . . "the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a murmur of general agreement.

"Right," Hermione looked relieved that something had at last been settled. "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week–"

"Hang on," said Angelina, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," said Cho, "nor with ours."

"Nor ours," added Zacharias Smith.

"We could make a magic calender with all of our schedules?" Anthony Goldstein suggested, only to be ignored.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," said Hermione, slightly impatiently, "but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters–"

"Well said!" barked Ernie Macmillan, who Harry had been expecting to speak long before this. "Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our OWLs coming up!"

He looked around impressively, as though waiting for somebody to dramatically disagree with him. When nobody spoke, he went on, "I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher on us at this critical period. Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells–"

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione, "Is that she's got some . . . some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilise us against the Ministry."

Everyone was stunned at first into silence, then into very loud clusters of conversation.

"Hem, hem," said Ginny, in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and have defence lessons?"

"Yes," said Hermione at once, "yes, we were, you're right, Ginny."

"Well, once a week sounds cool," said Lee Jordan.

"As long as–"began Angelina.

"It doesn't conflict with Quidditch." Harry continued, just to annoy Hermione.

"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," she acknowledged tensely. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet . . . "

This was rather more difficult; the whole group fell silent.

"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," said Hermione. "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting."

She rummaged in her bag and produced parchment and a quill, then hesitated, rather as though she was steeling herself to say something. "I–I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think," she took a deep breath, "that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anybody else what we're up to."

Harry did in fact notice that if they wanted this to be thoroughly effective, they should include everyone else in the room, but decided against saying anything.

Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully wrote his signature, but Harry noticed at once that several people looked less than happy at the prospect of putting their names on the list. When the last person–Zacharias– had signed, Hermione took the parchment back and slipped it carefully into her bag. There was an odd feeling in the group now. It was as though they had just signed some kind of contract.

"Well, time's ticking on," said Fred briskly, getting to his feet. "George, Lee and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later."

In twos and threes the rest of the group took their leave, too.

Cho made rather a business of fastening the catch on her bag before leaving, her long dark curtain of hair swinging forwards to hide her face, but her friend stood beside her, arms folded, clicking her tongue, so that Cho had little choice but to leave with her. As her friend ushered her through the door, Cho looked back and waved at Harry.

Luna stayed behind, which caught the trio's attention. She stalked over to the corner and tapped the younger-looking-man's shoulder. They began to strike up a conversation. About what, harry had no idea, but perhaps it involved Heliopaths? _I do hope they know each other. It would be awkward otherwise. The fellow looks like he's on a date._

"Well, I think that went quite well," Hermione beamed happily, walking out of the Hog's Head into the bright sunlight a few moments later. Harry and Ron were clutching their bottles of Butterbeer.

"That Zacharias bloke's a wart," said Ron, who was glowering after the figure of Smith, just discernible in the distance.

"I don't like him much, either," admitted Hermione, "but he overheard me talking to Ernie and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table and he seemed really interested in coming, so what could I say?"

"No. you could've said no."

The three of them smiled, and started back to the castle. Deciding to mill about the library, they curled up in front of its fireplace, absentmindedly reading non-class related books (except for Hermione that is.)

Some time later, perhaps an hour or two, their silence was disturbed.

"I'm joining you guys, don't mind me." as Kurosaki flopped himself down onto the sofa.

They gawked at him momentarily, bubble burst.

"By the way, good idea. I approve. Though maybe not such a good idea to meet in such an empty place. Suspicious."

This made them gawk even more, and the silence continued like a ticking time bomb.

"...Ichigo." Hermione's voice was quiet. "Is that a hickey?"

"Huh?" he motioned for a mirror which she pulled out of her purse. "Huh. so it is." He smirked. "Jealous Granger?"

Her jaw fell to the floor. As did Harry's. As did Ron's. And in unison, they all exclaimed…..

"WHAT?"

remember, reviews inspire me to update more! I hope you guys enjoyed :)


	21. Chapter 21

Renji hummed to himself as he walked into the headquarters of the Sixth. He'd had a good workout with Ikkaku and Yumichika over in the Eleventh, and was (reluctantly) ready to get to work.

"Huh?" He looked around, scanning the area. The third seat stared back at him, looking mildly terrified. "Uh, you okay?"

"Uh, yes! Abarai-Fukutaichou sir!"

Renji sighed, running a hand through his pineapple-esque hair. "What is it."

"Its Kuchiki-taichou. He's in a good mood." The words were stated in a conspiratorial voice, as if he was terrified the captain would hear.

"Okay..?" Renji wasn't quite sure why that was such a big deal, before mentally recounting all the times said Taichou had made jokes. He shivered. "Think it's safe for me to go in?"

"Oh yes. It's just scary. He smiled at me."

The red-head blinked a couple times, hoping to have misheard him. "Alright. I'm going in."

"Hai!"

Renji slid the door open, going over to take his place at his desk.

"Morning, Abarai." Byakuya greeted, not lifting his eyes up from his paperwork. "You're on time today."

Renji decided that it was in his best interest to not inform the captain that he was actually an hour late, and responded in kind. "Good Morning Taichou!"

Byakuya stretched his neck briefly and ran a hand through his hair. "It _is_ a good morning."

_Okay. Now I see what's so scary! _"Who are you and what did you do to Kuchiki-taichou?" He exclaimed, pointing his finger at said noble.

"I'm his life model decoy."

Blink. Blink.

"I'm joking, Abarai. It's not to be taken seriously."

"Ha ha, very funny taichou." there was a moment of silence. "Wait, did you just make a joke?"

"Get to work, Abarai."

"Y-yes sir!"

The entire situation seemed so surreal that Renji had a hard time even focusing on one piece of paperwork at a time. Eventually he managed to snap himself out of it, knowing that letting paperwork build up just. wasn't. worth. it. Sighing, he scrawled his signature across the bottom of the paper and passed it over to Byakuya's desk.

_Ugh. Why is there so much paperwork?_

Zabimaru sighed in agreement, both halves thoroughly restless.

Renji raised his head, taking a good look at his captain. _Wait what?_ He looked away, then back again. Surely he must be mistaken. _Nope, still there_.

"Captain, is that a hickey on your neck?"

Byakuya shot him a look of half-hearted disdain. "No."

"Are you sure? 'Cause, it looks like a lotttt like a hickey."

"Get back to work Abarai, unless you want me to use Senbonzakura on you."

He shivered. "Yes, of course."

"Rukia!"

"Huh? Renji?" The dark-haired young woman looked up towards the window to see her best friend climbing through it into the thirteenth's headquarters. "What are you doing?"

"Coming to see you! Obviously." He leaned over to catch his breath briefly. "Is your brother seeing anyone?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Why? Are you interested?"

A thoroughly disgusted look crossed Renji's face as he mentally pictured having a crush on his captain. "Definitely not!"

"Alright, so why exactly are you asking?"

He steeled himself for her reaction. "Because your brother is acting weird and has a hickey on his neck and is denying it and I am very very very scared."

Rukia stared at him for a little, violet eyes not seeming to quite comprehend the information. "Why are you scared?"

"Happy Kuchiki-taichou equals scary Kuchiki-taichou because none of us know how to deal with him when he isn't acting like he's got a stick up his ass! Oh hell, what if he got a stick up his ass ..." His eyes glazed over in horror at the idea of his taichou doing anything even remotely sexual. Over at the main desk, Ukitake-taichou cracked a smile.

"No, Nii-san isn't one to have sex right away. Or one night stands." Rukia's words seemed to hit her. "Oh my Kami. My brother has a hickey. What the actual fuck."

"MY POINT EXACTLY RUKIA HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING TO ME!?"

"YES!"

"HOW DID IT GET THERE?"

"WHY DIDN'T HE TELL ME HE WAS DATING SOMEONE?"

"WHO WOULD EVEN WANT TO DATE HIM?" Renji earned a thwack on the shoulder for that one.

"You know what this means Renji?"

"What?"

Stars appeared in her eyes. "It means we have to go throughout Soul Society and figure out which girl he's dating!" She grabbed him by the elbow and jumped out of the window with him.

"What? Rukia! No! Help!"

Ukitake couldn't help but laugh, covering his face with a hand. "All this time and they still think that boy is straight?"

…. A few hours later….

An exhausted pair of lieutenants flopped onto the floor of the thirteenth.

"Any luck?"

"Nope." they groaned in unison. "Nobody has any idea who she is."

Unaware of the chaos his mood was causing, Byakuya continued to absentmindedly fill out paperwork, mind occupied with the events of the day before.

He had come to visit Hogwarts for the sole purpose of comforting Ichigo, for the teen had had a rather nasty series of nightmares for an entire week. He'd only thought to tell Byakuya about them after the seventh, convinced that he was being too much of a bother. Which he most certainly wasn't, of course. _If he was, then so am I. I've called him because of night terrors as well._ This was what pushed the captain to contact Urahara and set him up with a gigai for the day.

Now, when he came with this purpose in mind, he hadn't expected to get dragged to a dingy old pub the likes of which most certainly had never seen a noble, ever.

"I need information!" Ichigo had explained, scowling in that ever present and sort of endearing way of his. "Besides, nobody will pay attention to us, so long as we have our heads covered."

And, since Byakuya _did not_ have a soft spot for the ex-substitute-shinigami, he went along with it. Even though the pub was old. And dusty. And had bad service. But it was cozy and provided the perfect spot for Ichigo to shed some painfully held in tears. It had been painful, listening to him speak of loneliness and some of the war horrors the teen had gone through. Throughout it all, Byakuya listened, letting the surprisingly tactile red-head lean on him even as he shook from unshed tears.

After his tear ducts emptied themselves and his breathing calmed, Ichigo collapsed slightly into the older man's chest.

"Thank you…" He'd whispered, so quietly he could barely be heard. "Thank you for being here. For listening."

Byakuya had shrugged it off, trying in vain to be impersonal, but failed greatly. "No need to thank me, Kurosaki-san. Thank you. For doing the same for me. It's been a long time since someone willingly spoke to me on such a level as equals. It's not something we captains often do."

Ichigo's ever-present scowl slipped into a much softer smile. "Ya know, Byakuya-"

"You know it's Kuchiki-taichou."

"- yeah, yeah. You're really not too bad of a guy." He looked up at him. "Maybe we should cross blades again sometime. If my powers ever come back. One can read what the other is feeling through their blade, ya know."

A light dusting of pink rose on Byakuya's cheeks.

"I bet it would be an _enlightening_ experience."

"I'm sure it would be." The Captain's heart betrayed his feelings, thumping quickly in the state-of-the-art gigai he was wearing.

"Well in that case, Byakuya…" Ichigo rose up on his forearms slightly, looking him straight in the eyes. "Call me Ichigo."

And with that, he leaned in _just_ a little, and brushed his lips softly against the taichou's.

Byakuya had gasped, surprised. He knew that he had a soft spot for the teen, - a crush, if you will - or even more than that, but he'd never entertained the idea that Ichigo would like him back. But he did.

It was at this point that a group of students arrived - quite noisily - into the pub, effectively ruining the mood. Which probably happened to be a good thing, since this occurrence was what had dragged the two men to the Hogshead in the first place.

The information was definitely taken in by Ichigo, but Byakuya barely paid them any attention, focused solely on the gorgeous and powerful red-head staring into his eyes.

They'd continued kissing after that, their first kiss having been the gateway drug to more, and only stopped when a young blonde tapped Ichigo's shoulder. Her name was Luna, and she was apparently one of the few friends the teen had made at Hogwarts so far. She was oddly aware of the spiritual world, - something which Byakuya had made a note of to look up when he had time - which made for a rather lovely conversation. Apparently, both of them smelt like cherry blossoms (which made Ichigo blush even harder. To be honest, it was a good look on him), and Ichigo's spiritual pressure was excruciatingly slowly (but surely) coming back. That brought more relief than the captain of the sixth was willing to admit. He was still extremely pissed at those in the Soul Society who had abandoned the teen.

Upon determining that the two men were on a date, Luna suggested they leave the pub and visit some more…._interesting_ locations. The Forbidden Forest and the Screaming Shack were both mentioned, but, being two people who dealt with the supernatural on a frequent basis, they decided to head to Madame Crysanthamum's Tea House and Salon, a much more refined location with the added perk of the ability to book a small tea room, no interruptions included. A perfect date spot. Luna had informed them that it was quite romantic and no students ever really went there.

And so, they finished off their date with a few pots of tea, some chocolate, and (he blushed recalling it) a more than rather enjoyable make out session. Said make out session was totally not planned. It just so happened that when you combine two very good kissers - one of which was a teenager and the other of whom hadn't had a relationship in quite a while - and put them in the same room, _and_ they just kissed for the first time, they tend to kiss some more. It just happens.

Byakuya rubbed his neck gently, letting a small smile grace his face as he recounted the date.

*PING!* The phone Urahara had given him beeped.

**I: Hey, so…..I know we kissed an all and I really don't know the protocol about his in the Soul Society, but…**

**I: Kuchiki Byakuya, would you be my boyfriend?**

The response was typed quickly.

**B: I would love to, Kurosaki Ichigo**


	22. Chapter 22

Ichigo woke in the morning from the first restful sleep he'd had in weeks. Running through his messy hair, he smiled a little dopily. He was, officially, no longer a single pringle. _Oh Goat-face is going to throw a fit,_ he chuckled to himself.

Sliding out of his bed, the teen pulled on a black bro-tank and stalked over to the bathroom. Being the first awake in the dorm, he'd get first shower, to which he was immensely thankful.

"Oh my god." he gasped as he looked in the mirror, blushing furiously. "Fuck you Byakuya." The words were said with no real heat, but rather a sense of astonishment. "There's no way I'm covering these up." Shaking his head fondly, he reached up to touch the bruises. "You know what?" he muttered, "I won't do anything to them. Maybe I'll actually give Umbridge a heart attack." A cackle in the back of his mind seemed to agree, and so he got on with getting ready for the day.

When he got out, Draco was lounging by the door. "Couldn't have been quicker?" he sniped, obviously annoyed at not getting first shower. "There had better be enough water, Kurosaki."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." _5 minutes. Is not. That long_. "It's a magic school Malfoy, as you're so fond of reminding everyone. The hot water doesn't just run out." He ran a hand through his hair, shaking out the tangerine strands.

Malfoy gaped at him.

"Hai?"

"Your, your neck..?"

"Yes, I know." A small smirk slid across his face yet again. "Got something to say?"

"Nope! Nothing at all." the boy backtracked quickly. "Just didn't know you had a girlfriend. Sort of thing we tell our aquaintances, you know."

"Don't have a girlfriend. Not like it's your business."

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow at him, clearly puzzled but disbelieving. "Well then. Didn't know you were the type for indiscreet makeouts."

Ichigo spluttered, turning red. "You know what Malfoy?"

"Huh?"

"It's none of your business and I do not appreciate being interrogated!"

"Um."

"Now say sorry!"

"Uh, sorry?"

"Thank you." He almost laughed out loud at the bemused expression on the blonde teen's face. "Go take a shower."

"Right. That."

…..

When they got to the common room, they were once again greeted by a horde of students around the bulletin board. Said sight had been becoming much more frequent, to the point of annoyance.

"Ugh, what _has_ she declared this time?"

"Bans on clubs and student groups!" Pansy peeped up. "Which sucks, but at least it means the Gryffindors have to get their team cleared by Umbridge if they want to play quidditch!"

"Huh?" Malfoy was obviously startled, and pushed forward to read the declaration. "Oh what did those bumbling idiots do this time?"

Ichigo hummed to himself, thinking. _This is suspicious timing. Dammit, I knew that place wasn't a good place to have a meeting. Byakuya and I could hear everything and nobody even noticed us. Any of the patrons could have been reporting to Umbridge. Ugh. _He sighed. When he'd arrived at Hogwarts, he hadn't wanted to really get involved, but...This woman was cruel. She was a dictator and a bully. She took advantage of position regardless of her own lack of power. Ichigo hated her. His eyes bled black for a second and he almost fell over. _What was that..? nothing...I must just be tired._

"Whatever. I'm sure we'll find out soon enough." and with that, he stuck his hands in his pockets and strode out to go get breakfast, fellow snakes trailing behind him.

The room happened to already be pretty populated. Ichigo could sense the golden trio over at the Gryffindor table, and he nodded at them as he walked past. _Wait, sensed?_ As he strode by the Ravenclaw table, Avy grinned brightly at him. Xe gave him a big thumbs up when xe noticed the prominent hickies on the boy's neck. With mounting terror, the ex-substitute-shinigami registered the Weasley twin's sending wolf whistles his way.

"Malfoy, if you kill me now, I'll let you guys hide my body." He muttered to the platinum blonde, thoroughly done with all the attention.

"Couldn't you just cover them up?"

Ichigo sent him a flat look. "Why?"

"Because.." he trailed off. The force of Kurosaki Ichigo's glare was enough to flatten several elephants, not to speak of scrawny magical noble brats. It was a skill that Getaboushi was ridiculously proud of, especially when the teen had sent a dozen hollows fleeing back into Hueco Mundo. Truth be told, it _was_ impressive, but that hadn't made the event any less embarrassing. Tatsuki had made fun of him endlessly.

Ichigo sat down at the table forcibly, ending the conversation. He grabbed the acai bowl from the middle of the table and stole it for himself. They were apparently an American thing, but a Hufflepuff had given the house elves a recipe. He was thankful for it. They were quite tasty, healthy, and not as healthy as the english breakfasts.

All of a sudden, hoots sounded the arrival of the day's post.

"Kurosaki."

"Hm?" He looked up at Blaise.

"I think you've got an owl."

"I do?" he was surprised. Getaboushi, Goat-face, and co sent him several care packages towards the beginning, but they'd petered out.

"Yeah. and a butterfly? I don't get it either, mate."

_A butterfly?!_ As he looked up, he saw, sure enough, a purple and black swallowtail gliding towards him. He stuck out his finger on instinct for it to land. "Kurosaki Ichigo." he stated to activate the message.

"Kur-Ichigo. I sent this as I'm sure you'd prefer my voice to an electronic message. I greatly enjoyed our time yesterday and I'm sure you'll be very happy to know that you've inspired much chaos without even being here. My sister is now trying to find which woman apparently managed to seduce me." Byakuya's voice stated drly. Ichigo thanked everything that it was in Japanese. "In addition, your sister asks me to tell you that you shall be receiving some home-cooked food. She managed to rope me into weaving kido around it to protect it, so it should stay good for at least a month. Urahara-san says to be careful and let him know if you think anything is up his alley." the taichou sighed. "I hope this finds you well. I'll see you soon, Ichigo."

The message ended. Daphne turned to the red-head, clearing noticing how much he was furiously blushing. "A message for yesterday's girl?" She teased.

"Something like that, yeah." He carefully untangled the package from the owl. Attached to the top was a small letter, which he opened. Inside was a letter from his family, and a list of the included food. (with a little note from Yuzu at the bottom.)

_Ramen, several bentos with all of your favorites, teriyaki, dango, yuzu-avocado-tuna sushi, udon, hiyayakko, sukiyaki, yakitori, red bean mochi, matsutake dobin mushi, miso blondies. Byakuya-san and Urahara-san helped me fit it all in! I figured you'd have enough western food and Karin said I was being silly, but I bet you miss home. So here. I tried to get all your favorites. I love you so much Nii-san! Stay safe okay? We need you home in one piece._

_\- Yuzu_

Ichigo's gaze softened several degrees as he took it in. _How do I have such amazing family?_ He traced a hand over one of the kido seals he just barely see. He smiled. _Gah, why is he this sweet_

"Package from home. I'll bring it back to the dorm and maybe give you guys a taste of good Japanese cooking."

Turning his gaze to the head table, his brows furrowed. "For now, let's work on taking that bitch down a peg."


End file.
